I Am The Gamemaker
by Fritz as Pritz
Summary: We are the Gamemakers. We provide your amusement. We see children, your children, when they are at their weakest. And we control it all.
1. Gamemakers Guide

**Here is the guide to every Gamemaker that you will be meeting in the following chapters. I also have a small description so that you can identify them. Most of what I put is said in the story, but if you need a clarification, here it is.**

**The Guide to the Gamemakers**

Ariadne Zartonigh: The narrator of the story and a native born District 2 citizen. She has been a Gamemaker for over seven years.

Robin Carspian: She is Ariadne's best friend and a District 5 citizen. She has a different way of viewing the Games and is very sympathetic to the tributes.

Avonlea "Lee" Blythe: Another one of Ariadne's friend and a Capitol citizen. She is very quiet and reserved, agreeing to everything Ariadne says.

Baruch: The Head Gamemaker, who is retiring and searching for his replacement. He fancies Ariadne, but is threatened by her view of the Games.

Wayne: A new Gamemaker straight from the Capitol. He is very smart and created every trap in the arena.

Gavyn: The Gamemaker who wants the Head Gamemaker job from Baruch. He is strictly dedicated to his job, severing his friendship with Ariadne.

Marit: Another new one. She is brilliant and takes a liking to Robin.

Lady Grey: An airhead Capitol citizen who Ariadne believes is too dunce to be a real Gamemaker.

*Finz*


	2. The List

**This is the Final List.**

******BB: Bloodbath.**

District 1-

M: **BB:** Argyros Martigale  
F: Flare Heartforth- 16

District 2-

M: Celer Ersatz- 18  
F: **BB**: Maeve Reston

District 3-

M: **BB:** Gilan Tryor  
F: **BB;** Sypher Murray- 13

District 4-

M: Vaughn Ingramin- 18  
F: Jenna "Jen" Perry- 14

District 5-

M: **BB:** Merton Calliston  
F: Halsey Raines- 14

District 6-

M: Smith Bates- 12  
F: **BB: **Tirzah Yorraw

District 7-

M: Nicholas Jackson- 18  
F: **BB:** Gwendle Trian-13

District 8-

M: **BB: **Zedekiah Cappercorn  
F:** BB:** Atarah Weaver

District 9-

M: Gamil Calixto- 16  
F: Cressida Johansen- 17/18

District 10-

M: **BB**; Johan Maxwell- 15  
F: Ceres Kirby- 13

District 11-

M:** BB**: Sam Stewart-15  
F: Jasmine Hollis- 17

District 12-

M: Brican Mastez- 17  
F: **BB:** Rooney Kestler

**I'm also starting a Sponsor system which I will tell you about after my first chapter.**

*Finz*


	3. Before

**This is sort of a teaser before the actual thing. I have PSATs tomorrow so I don't know when I'll be able to finish the reapings, but I didn't want to leave you hanging.**

**Thank you to everyone who sent in tributes! I appreciate all of them and I expect this to be a very interesting Games. I'm getting everything together. Sponsor stuff will be at the bottom.**

37th Hunger Games

Capitol citizens are so stupid. They're almost like vain little butterflies, always fighting for the most attention and looking for the closest and most beautiful flower to land on. The politicians of the Capitol are butterfly catchers, focusing on the most valuable and beautiful ones to keep with them. Where do I land in this array of politics? I'm a Gamemaker, but I was once a born and raised citizen of District 2. Now, however, I'm a bird in a city of daft ants.

Perhaps I am being too harsh on them, but it always happens whenever the Games begin to creep up on me. That is probably why I am the best Gamemaker here because I take my aggressions out on the tributes. Well not necessarily, but I get my greatest ideas when I am angry at people. I am not cold though. If I were, I would send a blizzard for five days straight, killing all hopes of hunting and frosting over most edible plants. Now that is cold, quite literally.

I take my job very seriously, is all. After all it is the only excitement I have all year. There is a bizarre sort of desire I feel whenever I control the arena. A similar feeling comes when I time a rock fall perfectly enough for it to badly injure, but not kill many tributes. A type of ecstasy envelopes me when I catch the smallest glimpse of hope in the tribute's eyes. I can read them like open books pressed out in front of me and that gives me the ultimate feeling of power.

It's wrong, I know that, I mean their children for goodness sake, but what can I do about it. Nothing, that's what. So since they are going to die anyway, I might as well make it the best I can.

Taking a deep breath, I pinch the bridge of my nose while glancing out my window. Capitol citizens walk through the streets with little care for anything besides their latest gossip. They are as anxious as I, though. Because this, too, is their only source of entertainment.

"Ariadne?" I turn to the sound of my name with an eyebrow raised. The Head Gamemaker, Baruch, stood behind me, his face solemn.

"Come with me. The reapings are about to start."

**A.N. So this is the beginning. I just had to name her Ariadne being as Collins was inspired by Theseus and the Minotaur (Ariadne is the one who helps him out of the maze). Reaping will come tomorrow or Sunday. I won't go through every district, only the ones with main characters, (which I now realize is basically every district).**

**Sponsorship:**

**1 point for review (a real review not "update soon").**

**3 points for alerting and/or favoriting this or my other stories.**

**2 points for each tribute you send in.**

**1 point if you answer the Fun Question right (It'll only be about Hunger Games Trilogy).**

**Prices will change during the Games.**

**6 points for small items, water bottles, some food, ect...  
8 points for small weapons, pain medication, a prepared dish, ect...  
12 points for expensive items, serious injury medication, ect...**

**Just tell me what you intend to send and I'll classify it for you.**

**Point so far: (I didn't add any reviews before this point)**

**Max Alleyne: 4  
KatnissIsTheLove: 4  
FlitterCherub: 2  
amazingbliss24: 2  
Maximum Warrior-of the Games: 2  
Claratrix LeChantham: 2  
Hahukum Konn: 2  
spindleberried: 2  
Frenzied Warrior:2  
L. JSmithLover24: 2**

**I'll keep track of it and post the scoring at the end of each chapter. And if I'm wrong let me know.**

*Finz*


	4. Reapings of Districts 1 and 2

**I thought about doing only District 1, but after writing that part, it was too short (since I she obviously wouldn't know what they are doing beforehand), and you guys deserve more. So I added 2 as well. Next chapter will probably be the same. **

Reapings: Districts 1-2

I try to imagine what it's like to actually be afraid to go into the Hunger Games. To have someone you have to take care of or to leave something you love. I've never had to worry about being in the Games. In the end, I always knew I wouldn't be picked.

I tentatively watch as the mayor of District One continues his long speech about the Dark Days. The people in the Capitol only have to listen to the story once (in District One), then the cameramen don't bother taping the beginning for the other districts.

The Gamemakers are huddled around the lounge, most of which are chatting softly amongst themselves. During the time of the Hunger Games, we hardly ever leave each other's side. Probably so we will not spill any details to the citizens or mentors. That happened once a few years back to a woman named Eulalia. She told a friend of hers that every night the arena moves around and eventually word got to the tributes. She was "taken care of" before the Games even started.

I sit in the middle of the large semicircle around the television. Out of twenty Gamemakers, I am the only one with a pen and notebook. Until the actual Games, I note everything about almost every tribute. I say almost because if the tribute is too weak (really weak, not a faker), I don't waste my time with them. More often than not, they are the ones who die in the Cornucopia or on the first day.

After a couple minutes of hearing the mayor speak, Cassida walks up to the podium, announcing the normalcies for the district escort. Until finally she says, "Let us pick the tributes. Boys first this time!"

She walks to the glowing ball and takes her time pulling out a name. When she finally lands on one she skips toward the podium and says in her awfully shrill voice, "Argyros Martigale."

Eyes fly to the stranger in the crowd, the cameras following suit. By his expression alone I know better than to place his name down. His eyes are wide, taking over his entire face. I note the small traces of tears at his edge of his eyes and seconds later they spill from his face. They are genuine too. Not the fake, almost forced, ones that comes from people who are joking. Not only that but he has little muscle and is incredibly scrawny. Most of the time I do not factor this in, but with him, it appears to be his greatest weakness. He walks limply to the stage, completely blubbering and shaking. He tries to wipe away his tears with his arm, but it is easily replaced by more.

Cassida smiles warmly at him, as if trying to make him feel better, but it does little to help. "Are there any volunteers?" In a Career district, I expect for at least one person to take his place, but I am quickly proven wrong when no boy moves to take his place. Either no one is really prepared or they really hate him. Seconds later, he begins to bawl again.

"Alright then, let's continue shall we! Girls are next." She skips back to the bowl with less of a spring than before and takes out the first name she sees. "Sunny Gabbertie."

The crowd groans and the camera finds a small little twelve year old in the back. My lips purse and many of the Gamemakers around me have a similar reaction. It never sits well with us whenever we have to kill twelve-year-olds. She walks to the stage in quick long strides and tries to hide herself in her hair. I consider writing her name, but decide to wait in order to see if someone volunteers.

Cassida waits for a little while and just before she is going to continue, one little hand pops up. "I volunteer!"

Her face is on the screen in a flash. This girl is tall, slender, and no older than sixteen. The old cotton red dress she wears suggests hardship and strength. Her bronze shoulder length hair frames her pale face perfectly, and giving her teal-blue eyes more depth. Her gaze is one of someone who has absolutely nothing to lose. With a smile, I decide to write down her name. She walks to the stage and Sunny leaves gratefully.

"What's your name, dear?" Cassida asks.

"Flare Heartforth," she says easily. I watch as the camera shows the crowd, expecting some kind of cheer or approval. Instead, we're met only with confusion. The district didn't recognize her. Not even a little bit. Nonetheless, a few showed their gratefulness with a soft, almost incoherent applause.

"Well that's tough," Gavyn says. He and I have been Gamemakers for the same amount of time, and he is the only one who even remotely understands how I feel most of the time. "She volunteered and they aren't even grateful."

"Not grateful per se. I'm pretty sure they're glad that a little kid isn't being brought in, but I figure they just don't know who she is," I mutter. No one tries to say otherwise. They trust my judgment better than they trust Baruch's anyway.

"Why do you think she volunteered then?"I smirk and watch as Flare and Argyros shake hands. The screen blackens to the seal and the anthem plays. There would be plenty of time until District 2 came on.

"I can't read her mind, only her emotions." A couple people chuckle, but most get up and feast on the buffet behind us. After the District 4 reapings, majority of the Gamemakers ignore the rest and eat whatever is left on the food table.

Gavyn sits beside me and glances over my notes on Flare. Silently nodding to himself, he glances at the blue streak in my hair. "Since when did you die your hair?" he asked quietly.

"I was curious, is all. I'm washing it out tonight." He opens his mouth to say something, but then is rudely interrupted by Lysander. He is one of the many Capitol Gamemakers and has a thick accent to prove it.

"Don't you dare, Ariadne Zartonigh! You look like an angel with that hair of yours." Another jumps up to give her own opinion.

"Yes, Ariadne. You should leave it be." Soon enough, the Gamemakers begin a very interesting conversation about hair styles which eventually turns into the stylists this year and the chariot rides.

Robin Carspian sits in the other side of me, copying Gavyn's movements. She, like me, is not of Capitol origin. She was raised in District 5 and is definitely the smartest of all of us. Her sympathy does her well as a Gamemaker; she is the one who can stop us from being unnaturally cruel to the tributes. She claims that my view is similar to her own plenty of times, but I know little of what she speaks of. I was born in District 2. Sympathy for tributes doesn't necessarily run in our blood. Still, she is definitely refreshing company compared to the others.

After a long while, she speaks. "You don't think he'll make it? Argyros, I mean." Her soothing voice much different from the Capitol's yapping.

"No. Someone will kill him easily. He's too weak." Her thin lips purse, her disdain for my honesty dripping from her lips.

"I think he could make it if he wanted to." I shake my head as District 2 appears on the screen. I smile inwardly at my old home and wonder what sort of celebrations are going to be held afterward.

"Someone has to die, Robin," I tell her blindly, "and I assure you, he will be one of them." The Gamemakers return from the buffet table and take their respected seat before the screen. Robin stays by my side, though Gavyn leaves to stand beside Baruch. The District 2 mayor (his name, I do remember, is Aither) is reading the long list of winners, one of which is my brother's, who sits on stage as a mentor.

"Have you seen him?" Robin asks quietly at my side. I shake my head and divert my eyes from the screen.

"Not since last year. I haven't been home in a while." I miss it, but I don't tell her so.

Lucentio (the escort) takes Aither's place at the podium speaking in a strong clear voice that echos through the main square. "I believe we are all aware of how honored I am to be here. So I will not go into detail about that." A few people laugh making the affair light and glorious in a horrible situation. "Now, the ladies shall be first."

He goes to the bowl, pulls out a name, and rushes to the podium. "Bianca Corista." A small girl standing in the eighteen year old section goes to the stage with not a worry on her face. She knew as well as the rest of the district that someone would take her place. "Volunteers?"

Two hands fly up, and they eventually pick the hand in the sixteen year old section. She is considerably taller than Bianca, but is still small compared to most of the other girls. Her strength is obvious from the way she carries herself to the stage and when she says her name, I don't think twice to write down: Maeve Reston.

"That is great! Maeve Reston everyone!" The applause following reminds me of the applause, or lack of, that had happened only minutes before. There seems little difference between Maeve and Flare, only that Flare doesn't seem to carry herself with the same confidence (or maybe pride is a better word) that Maeve does. Confidence is key, but pride can kill.

"We shall continue then." Lucentio goes to the boys' bowl and takes a name. "Alastor Lyneck." This boy walks to the stage with the same reassurance as the girl before, though I do sense a little worry by the sweat in the back of his neck. He takes his place beside Maeve, one foot facing the steps off of the stage.

This time when Lucentio asks for volunteers at least six hands shoot up, although one keeps rising and falling, suggesting indecision. The escort isn't sure which to pick, but then his eyes fall on one hand completely erect towards the front. "You there," he says pointing at the erect hand.

When the camera falls to the boy's face, I swear I am staring at my father. His expression is completely cold, almost lifeless. The pupils in his striking blue eyes are abnormally small, paralyzing you when you gaze at them. His short blond hair falls in wisps about his square head. He is lean, but that does not stop you from questioning the obvious power behind his hold.

"That's a child?" someone says in the back. We laugh at the comment, more to lighten the tension than anything else. We all think the same thing though. This boy is not someone to trifle with, nor someone you would want to cross on a bad day, let alone the Hunger Games.

"Celer Ersatz," he says after Lucentio asks for him name. I write it down on my notebook, along with a few other words.

"He's going to murder them," Robin breaths softly.

"He might, though I highly doubt he will overcome some of the obstacles in our arena," I say proudly. She's concerned by my statement.

"Yeah," she replies in the same tone, "but don't you think we're being a little harsh. Especially with-"

"You're such a softy, Robin," Wayne says. He is one of the newest Gamemakers, this being his first year. "Shouldn't you be at least a little crueler if you're gonna be a Gamemaker. That's what the Capitol gets for hiring a District 5 citizen."

"Cruelty does not make you a Gamemaker," I snap at him. "It's your mindset. You better get that through your brain before we start, or else you won't even last the first day." His mouth snaps shut. "Learn your place too, if you expect to stay with us. Baruch hates it when there's no respect."

"I didn't mean it like that," he says with his palms out in front of him.

"Of course you didn't," I reply venomously.

The tributes shake hands and the seal reappears. Wayne rushes to the food, stuffing his face. Naturally, the others followed suit.

"I didn't mean to make him mad. It _is_ the truth though," Robin says with her head hung.

"Wayne doesn't know." His name almost sounds like a growl on my lips. "He doesn't know what it's like to be in charge like we do. He'll understand by the end though." Robin tries to smile, but it falls before finding its place on her face. Her hands are clasped together, save for her index fingers which are erect and pressed against her lips.

"It was a mistake for me to be a Gamemaker. I should've stayed in District 5," she finally says.

"You say that every year," I counter.

"It doesn't make it less true."

I smile reassuringly at her and glance the blue stripe on my hair through the reflection of the television. "I don't like it. I wanted to know what the fuss was about with the random hair colors, but it just doesn't fit me."

"Because you're not a Capitol person." I give her a smirk and she can't help but laugh at how silly I look.

"It's a reason like this that I actually like the fact that I'm from District 2." We laugh together and stand up to take something from the table. Robin and I belong here. No matter what the others say.

**Kind of a sudden ending, but I wanted to stop before I got into District 3. The remaining reapings aren't going to have the same format as this, because it's a little tedious to go through every single district without anything different other than the escorts and reactions. So I'll just do the main characters a few chosen bloodbaths. I might have that one in a couple of days, but don't hold your breath.**

**I love your reviews! They put the biggest smile on my face. And now our Fun Question (this one is kinda easy):**

_What are the names of the District One tributes in the 74th Hunger Games?_

**Sponsor Points: **

**Max Alleyne: 8  
****KatnissIsTheLove: 11  
****FlitterCherub: 6  
****amazingbliss24: 5  
****Maximum Warrior-of the Games: 6  
****Claratrix LeChantham: 6  
****Hahukum Konn: 2  
****spindleberried: 6  
****Frenzied Warrior:2  
****L. JSmithLover24: 2  
****The Essence of Fire: 1**

**Don't be afraid to tell me if you think I miss counted. I have a B- in math. **

*Finz*


	5. Reapings of Districts 3 to 5

**I skipped District 3. Big deal. They're both bloodbath. I'll come around to them during training and such, but I'm pretty sure you really just want to read your own characters, so I'll skip them for now.**

**And to **ur1fan, **thank you for sending in the tribute, but I have more than enough. If you don't mind, I can use him as a bloodbath character. However, if you don't answer, I'll let him be.**

Reapings: District 4-5

Of all the Gamemakers, Lady Grey is my least favorite. She is neither a lady nor are her eyes gray. In fact they are the darkest brown eyes I have ever seen in my entire life. She may appear to be a civilized Capitol citizen, but she always puts her two sense where they don't belong. As such when I stood up to leave just before the District 3 reapings were going to start.

"Ariadne," she sings to me in a broken soprano pitch. "The reapings are starting." I glance at the screen, completely disinterested in her words.

"I can see that." Her bright purple lips round into an "o".

"But you have to watch the reapings! It's required."

"I'm not in District 2 anymore, Lady Grey. I am no longer required to watch them." I could have also added that majority of the districts don't watch the Games after their tributes are killed anyway, but Lady Grey also has a big mouth.

"But Ariadne-"

"I know the rules, dammit!" I exclaim. She looks up at me with wide eyes. "The only thing is that I don't really care. And honestly, I don't think President Hale will fire one of his best Gamemakers because she didn't feel well enough to watch _one_ reaping." That shut her up.

Lady Grey may not mean to get under my skin, but she has done so for four plus years already and I am beginning reaching my limit with her. Baruch claims that she is a valuable asset to us, but I think he just has a crush on her. Either way, Lady and I do not belong in the same conversation for long.

"I'll let you know if there's anyone good," Gavyn says almost to reassure Lady Grey that I'd have some idea of the District 3 tributes. She seems to take it because she rudely turns away from me and faces the television. I catch Robin's wary eye before rushing out of the room.

I walk down the hallway until I reach the balcony. My brain begins to throb, pressing into my skull. I rub the top of my head with my thumb, index, and middle finger in a futile attempt to try to bring my runaway thoughts and worries together. Unsurprisingly, it does little to help.

"I have pills if you want them." I jump at the sudden noise and whip around, prepared to fight. The owner of the voice hops back with her palms outstretched in front of her. The minute I catch her dyed baby blue highlights I relax.

"Marit," I breath. She smiles weakly at me, slowly putting her hands at her side. "What are you doing here?"

She opens her mouth to respond, then closes it. She is another first-year Gamemaker, but unlike Wayne, she is much more tentative and collected. She is not one to run over though. I was at her interview and her mind is very impressive for a twenty-two year old Capitol citizen. She brushes her blonde and blue hair behind her ear and smiles warmly and openly at me.

"I was making sure you were okay. Robin was worried." I sigh and lean over the edge of the balcony. From our view, I can see the President's mansion, heavily guarded by Peacekeepers, one of which used to be my father. Although the city is always dull and blackened with clouds, from above, everything seems peaceful and wondrous.

"I needed air," I tell her simply.

"Was it District 2? It must be hard to see your district's children being reaped. Even harder knowing that you'll have to kill them." It must have taken all of her nerve to tell me this because I have not heard her utter more than ten words to me since she became a Gamemaker.

"You have to understand that I don't really tie myself to my district anymore. Though, I don't consider the Capitol as my home either, so I guess I don't belong anywhere."

"But District 2's your home. Wouldn't you want them to be prosperous?"

"I do love them, and while I may want them to win, I know that I can't show favoritism. Not when there are people's lives at stake." She understands, but I can still see the questions in her eyes. She will ask them later though, because she knows how tense I am now.

We stand together in a comfortable silence. Marit glances at me every so often as if arguing with herself to ask me something or not. Finally, the words spill from her mouth.

"Don't you ever feel guilty?" I look at her, but she refuses to meet my blue eyes.

"We aren't psychopaths. We're human and the feeling of loss and guilt comes to us naturally. I'd be concerned if I wasn't guilty over the people I helped kill."

"I mean after the Games. How do you live with yourself?" I keep my eyes locked onto the chipped paint of the neighboring building, unable to answer Marit's question. But I try anyway.

"Everyone has different methods. Personally, I still see some of their faces when I go to sleep." At my answer, I see the red hair of a District 4 tribute sprayed along the grass, and the frostbitten fingers of District 11, amputated and shriveled.

The door to the balcony swings open with Baruch leaning against the door frame. "District 3 ended. Four is due in a few minutes." I nod, but make no other movement. "You better go inside." Marit hastily leaves, but I take my time prying my eyes away from the paint and the Capitol.

"Yes, I ought to go in now," I say in a daze, trying to bring myself back to life. He narrows his eyes at me and blocks my way in with his arm.

"Are you alright? You seem different." I blink a few times.

"I was just remembering, is all."

"Oh, well, are you going to be okay?" he asks as he allows me to go past him. I make an effort not to look at him as I walk back to the Gamemakers.

"I'm fine," I say. He grabs my arm as I open the door and checks the television, no doubt to see if the next reapings have started.

"I'm serious. You seem distant."

"I'm alright, Baruch," I say trying to slide out of his grasp by walking away, except he pulls me roughly back.

"Hey, I know how you can get when something's bothering you. You turn into a loose cannon and use your talents stupidly. Now answer my question honestly: are you okay?" I glare at his hand on my arm and roughly jerk it out of his reach. His intense gaze claws at my chest, blinding my eyes and all coherent thoughts with hatred.

"Whatever is wrong with me has nothing to do with you or the other Gamemakers, ergo, it is none of your concern. I do believe that it would only be your concern if I act rashly during the Games or to another Gamemaker, but seeing as I have done neither, I figure you should try not to grab me like that again, before I show you why Peacekeepers come from District 2," I somehow manage to say in one breath. It may not have been smart for me to say such things in front of the others, but I don't care. He is not my father nor my psychiatrist.

I walk rather calmly back to my seat, ignoring the stares and questions from the other Gamemakers. I catch the hidden grin on Robin's face. I'd say something to her, but I am still on edge about Baruch that I think anything that comes from my mouth will end up being an insult.

Instead, I grab my notebook from my seat and isolate myself to the back of the room. The screen is big enough so that I can see the main expressions over the tops of the others' heads. In my notebook, Robin wrote down the name of the female District 3 tribute (Sypher Murray) and a couple other qualities about her.

When District 4 begins and I look back up, I can feel Gavyn's eyes on me. I know he's itching to ask me what happened but I think I'm still too on edge to address him. I almost stand up to leave again when I see Bartol picking a name out of the girl's bowl.

He paces back to the podium and says, "Jenna Perry."

A sharp cry is heard before the camera finds the pretty girl in the crowd. "No! Not my baby!" someone cries. I divert my eyes as the camera moves to find the source of the voice. I already know that it's her mother, brawling and thrashing the same way my mother was when my brother's name hung in the air.

Jenna walks to the stage, keeping all of her emotions bottled up inside of her. I have to admit, she does so very well. Her shoulder-length, curly, light brown hair is pushed behind her ear exposing her finer and softer facial characteristics. Her button nose, the sprinkled freckles along her face, and her dark green eyes are definitely her stronger and more beautiful features. But there is something about her that I don't particularly like, only I don't know what it is. Still, almost grudgingly, I put her name down.

I watch her closely until the male tribute is picked. Her eyes are glued to an area in the back, most likely where her mother is. I catch the water building up behind her eyes as her face slowly scrunches up. Still, she catches herself before she begins to cry and stares at the wooden stage.

"Vaughn Ingramin!" A couple of mutters seep through the speakers as the view suddenly flashes to his face.

The boy isn't immediately handsome, but there is something about his deep sea-green eyes and his distorted nose that makes him good-looking. He walks to the stage meeting the eye of every single child he passes. He tries to smile and keep his spirits up, but it never reaches his eyes. His name falls beside Jenna's.

By the time they shake hands and we are given our break, majority of the Gamemakers have moved their seats to the small coffee tables in the back. I would get little interference from them now. I move to a comfortable sofa chair and pull my legs under me. With the Careers done with, I know there will be only a few other promising tributes.

"Are you okay?" Gavyn asks from behind me.

"I swear, if one more person asks me that, I'm going to lose it." He doesn't laugh, but I see his amusement when he comes to sit in the chair adjacent to mine.

"Is there a reason why you are so angered by people's concern."

"I'm not mad, it's just irritating hearing the same question for three different mouths." He opens mouth to respond to my statement when Robin quickly jumps in.

"I think she means that it's tiring answering the same question over and over again. So you should be considerate and not expect an answer." He narrows his eyes at her, but, nonetheless, leaves to join the Gamemakers.

"Thanks," I tell her.

"Don't thank me. I expect you to tell me what's up once the reapings are done." If it weren't for the small smirk on her face, I would have thought she was serious. We laugh together and settle in a warm peacefulness until the next reapings come up.

When the congested square jumps on the screen, Robin's eyes go wide and I can see the tears building up. We don't go home during the off months of the Hunger Games because we both agreed it would be hard to come back after seeing our friends and family again. When we go home, it will be for good. So it's easy to understand what she's feeling as she stares at the place she once called home.

"When I was seven," she began mindlessly (and I note how a few Gamemakers stop their conversations to listen in), "my father took me to the roof top of the apothecary. They had a greenhouse, see for all of their herbs and remedies. Only healers and doctors were allowed on the roof but my dad had a green thumb. He could make anything he wanted grow and he always said that the greenhouse was like his second child. Anyway he brought me to the roof and I saw District 5 for the first time."

It's a tradition of ours for Robin to tell me of a childhood memory during the reaping. It helps her remember where she came from. I often feel bad for her, though. We've been doing this for seven plus years and I know she misses home, only if she were to go back to District 5, she would be deemed a murderer by her district.

She continues to describe the people and buildings from her view on the roof. We are all enthralled by her story, so much so that we forget about the reapings. That is until I see a boy walking to the stage from the corner of my eye.

"The reapings Robin," I say softly, while placing a hand on her back. She jerks her head back as if she were coming back to Earth.

"Right. Them bloody Hunger Games." She says the last part under her breath, but I still hear her under strained ears. We turn our attention back to the television as they announce the girl tribute.

"Halsey Raines."

The girl they called Halsey walks to the stage slowly, probably so she won't trip on her green dress that seems to swallow her whole. Like the other tributes, all the blood is drained from her face, making the little red freckles on her nose more prominent. Her appearance is similar to that of Robin's with the same shade of brown hair and narrow green eyes. Though, Robin's face is much smoother than the pointed look Halsey has.

"Do you know her?" I ask Robin simply.

"She reminds me of a friend of mine, but I don't know." Her eyes seemed to glaze over as she tried to remember. "Gage, I think. There was a boy named Gage. He was my friend's nephew. They have the same nose." She is lost in her memories and I decide to let her be.

By the time the tributes shake hands, she is up and moving to the buffet table, though when she gets there, she only stares at the food. Every so often she moves to touch it, but before she could come in contact, her hand shrivels back to her side.

I remember how broken Robin was the first time she watched a District 5 reaping. She had known the male tribute (he was her father's apprentice) and when he was killed by a District 2 tribute, she could not stop crying. She was almost fired for her lack of professionalism. But I honestly fell in love with her that day. I admired her sympathy and how she shed a tear for every District 5 tribute, even if she didn't know him or her. She was bonded to her home in a way that people thrive for.

In a way that I know I will never have.

**By the way, Ariadne is not a lesbian. She fell in love with Robin the same way you fall in love with pizza or ice cream or whatever your favorite food is. They are best friends and that's all. Just getting that straight now. **

**I am very proud of myself for finishing this today. When I added District 5 I thought it'd take me longer, but it didn't! Yay! There will probably be three other chapters for the reapings, and after that we get to the good stuff. I didn't really have a chance to edit, so I'm pretty sure there are mistakes. **

**I love your feedback. Make sure to let me know if I'm making Ariadne into a crazy person or something! Haha. Anyway, the question (again this one is easy):**

_In what district did the Morphlings come from?_

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*Finz*


	6. Reapings of Districts 6 and 7

Reapings of Districts 6-8

The first book I ever read was an old bound novel that was written years before Panem even existed. It was one of the only surviving books from its time, and was the most well preserved one in our library and possible the entire country.

I remember sneaking into the dome shaped room, the multiple shelves of books creating an inverse staircase to the crystal window that stood as the roof. It always received a single beam a burning heat that scared the dust from the pages, making the air thick and allergenic. I tip-toed to the first shelf and grabbed the first book I could get. _Lord of the Flies_.

It easily became my favorite book, reminding me of the horrible and terrifying Capitol in multiple ways. I placed it back in the library before my father could find out I had it. Still, I could not stop thinking about the leather bound cover and the shimmering pink conch in the book. The story followed me throughout the rest of my life, especially when I watched my brother's Games. And even more so now.

The book is all I could think of when the boy tribute for District 6 is called. The symptoms weren't immediately clicking for me. I had thought he was just afraid, but then he could not stop shaking and then he threw up. The children around him scattered quickly and I almost missed the blood in his vomit. A thick red liquid seeped from the corners of his mouth and he seemed twenty times paler than normal. I remembered seeing the same thing happen to a boy in the poorer areas in District 2.

"Yellow fever," Robin says. Any Gamemaker that wasn't watching, definitely had their eyes on the screen now.

The boy walks to the stage limply while clenching his stomach. The beads of sweat on his forehead rolls in every direction on his face and by the time he reaches his destination, he looks as though he is about to faint. Like the boy in the book. Simon. He's kind of like Simon.

The female tribute for District 6 tries to keep her distance, probably so she won't get hit if he decides to throw up again. When the District 6 escort asks for volunteers, no one is surprised when the children fail to raise their hands. Although it is easy to be cured of yellow fever, at the rate he's going, he might die after a week. I'm sure from their view, it is seen more as killing one to save another healthier one.

Perhaps that is why everyone is surprised when a little hand pops up into the air. "We've got a volunteer!"

I laugh a little when they show the young boy's face. His eyes are wide and his mouth is slightly agape, as though he himself didn't realize he had volunteered until after he did it (which may very well be the case). His capricious actions quickly give him the title of impulsive in my book.

As he walks to the stage to take the yellow fever boy's place, I take in his appearance. He is small and incredibly skinny, almost frail. He couldn't be any older than twelve years old. He has a deep olive complexion and sandy blonde hair. His wide blue eyes seem to fill with tears, but he, surprisingly, did not let them spill. It pains each of us to watch a twelve year old be chosen, but even more so knowing that he volunteered, let alone for a sick boy.

"Well, that was very noble of you. What's your name?"

"S-smith Bates." I don't particularly have high hopes for this boy (considering he's twelve and pretty weak), but the fact that he was so selfless is enough for his to earn a spot on the notebook.

The more I look at Smith, the more I think of my brother when he was young. They look almost exactly the same, save Theseus was more filled out than this scrawny figure. Not only that, but I can see him volunteering for someone less fortunate. Someone who could not afford to lose their life in the Hunger Games.

"Ariadne," Robin said shaking me. My eyes fly to hers as I notice the seal took the place of District 6. "You dozed off. I told you not to go to bed late, but you didn't listen to me." I laugh gently and rub my eyes. I didn't even realize I nodded off.

"I'm not tired," I tell her. It's a petty lie, especially because one look at the black bruises under my eyes can prove me wrong. Still, she does not question my statement.

"Most of the Gamemakers went to the balcony for some air. My guess is that they'll come back around the time the reapings end." I had the same guess. I glance at the now empty tables and found maybe four of the original seventeen Gamemakers sitting in the chairs. One of which is Marit.

"What do you think about all of this?" I ask her. She's surprised by my question, but answers nonetheless.

"You mean about Smith volunteering for Aron? I think it was an awfully brave thing for him to do, considering he'd probably be one of the first to go." Robin, as always, grew defensive of the boy.

"These are the Hunger Games, Marit. There is no guaranteed survivors in the first few minutes."

"Except Celer. Hell, if that boy gets out at the Cornucopia, I think we all deserve a medal." I meant the statement sarcastically, but all I received was a wide-eyed stare from Marit and an unamused glare from Robin. "Aw, come on. You knew what I meant."

"He scares me," Marit murmurs. "He looks as though he'll pull your arms off and like it."

"I wouldn't doubt it," I say deep under my breath. Luckily, no one heard me that time.

"That District 4 boy," Robin says, "Van I think his name is-"

"Vaughn," I correct.

"Yeah, he seems strong. He met everyone's eye upon going to the stage. No one's done that before."

"He has a chance," I agree. Marit nods her consent.

"Halsey might have a chance," Marit adds.

"They all have a chance," I reply a little too bitterly. "It's what they do with that chance that makes the difference."

I must have slept for a while because District 7 appears less than a second after I utter my last sentence. Marit stands up from her chair and moves to the free space on the sofa. Robin smiles warmly at her before digging into her pant's pocket and pulling out her signature rubber ball.

"It's her stress reliever," I clarify after seeing Marit's confused stare. "You should find one, too, for when the Games start. Trust me, it'll save you later on." She nods and takes another look at the ball before turning all of her attention to the reapings.

I rest my eyes for a little but while I wait for the names to be called. I am awfully tired, but these are the reapings. One of the most important parts of the Hunger Games and if I sleep now, I'll be missing out on a lot. However, I can watch them later... no. No, I should watch it now then take a nap later.

The boys are chosen first this time and with her thick Capitol accent, the escort cries, "Nicholas Jackson!" into the microphone.

The tall boy stands close to the front and get to the stage quickly. He has a strong build (even greater than Celer) and the similar blond hair and blue eyes that Smith had. His face is clear of almost all expressions, including fear or surprise. This catches me off guard, but I have no doubt his mind is racing. As expected, no one volunteers for him and he thrusts his calloused hand into the pockets of his denim jeans.

I keep my eyes on him, curious to see if he would give mean emotion to work with. However, he seemed to allow every comment or surprise to roll off of him and giving little to no effect on his overall being.

"He looks like my brother," Marit begins. "When we were younger, we would..." She continues telling her story, going deep into the details of her past. I don't listen to her though because I am too busy trying to understand what he's thinking. I keep hoping he'll react in some way or will at least look for someone in the crowd.

His surprised expression and the young girl on the screen was the last thing I remembered before falling asleep once again.

**A little sudden and rushed on my part. I'm sorry. You guys deserve better, but I was stumped. Writing reapings are kinda boring and I just wanted them to be over. **

**Two (or maybe one) more chapters of reapings then it's the end of that! YES! After which will be the 3 Training Days, Interviews, and finally Hunger Games. I've already planned out the deaths and such, and I think it will be very emotional for your beloved tributes.**

**I will be asking you two questions this time. One is your fun question and the other is an extra that I will give a secret prize to if I like your answer.**

**Fun Question: **_At what time did Katniss say the District 12 reapings were at?_

**Extra:** _I need a name for a male Avox whom is one of Ariadne's _very_ close friends. I tried looking for one myself, but I just can't do it. So please send me names for a boy! He will be about 30 years old and has ebony hair and hazel-green eyes. The name I choose will get a special prize._

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ur1fan: 3

*Finz*


	7. Reapings of Districts 8 to 12

**Congratulations Frenzied Warrior! You win the prize of 5 sponsor points! Woo! **

Reapings of Districts 8-12

The first year I was a Gamemaker was uneventful except for when I met Robin and Rhys. I had been wondering the hallways getting completely lost in the mazes of rooms and curves. Right when I was getting ready to give up, I remember seeing him there, cleaning the large glass window overlooking the city.

"Hey!" I yelled to him. "Can you tell me where the Gamemakers' room is?" He turns toward me and I immediately notice his eyes. They are hazel and have bits of green about the irises that creep up, making a faded starfish. With his messy auburn locks, he looks incredibly handsome. As I stared at him, I knew that he could not be more than a few years older than me. Still, he still did not answer me.

"Did you hear me?"He nodded but then looked at the rag in his hand. "Do you know where it is?" He opened his mouth, releasing a strange moan in the back of his throat. And then I understood.

I knew about the Avoxes in the Capitol from when my father would go to the President's mansion, but I had never personally met one. My father always told me to never try speaking to an Avox unless you want them to do something. At the time that I met the Avox, I was twenty-one and wanted nothing more than to piss off my father, so I spoke to him.

"Can you write?" I asked pulling out my small reporter's notebook and black pen from my messenger bag. He looked at the paper nervously, but nodded nonetheless. I handed it to him. "Can you tell me your name?"

Swallowing nervously, he tucked the rag into his pants and took the pen and paper from me with shaky hands. It took him a while to get used to the pen in his hand but eventually he wrote: Rhys.

"I always liked that name," I said. He smiled warmly at me, his eyes twinkling at my attention. I wondered if he ever gets lonely since he can't speak to people. "I need to find the Gamemakers' room. Do you mind showing me?" He nodded and handed the notepad back to me.

"No keep it. That way I can talk to you." He shook his head violently and he tried to force it back in my hand. "No. I don't want it, Rhys." He stared at the pad before stuffing it in his pants pocket.

He gently tugged at my arm for me to follow him, but even that seemed to frighten him a little. To show him that I meant no harm, I linked arms with him. I laughed inwardly at what my father's expression would be if he were to see me right now.

From the corner of my eye, I noted the pink tint to his cheeks. "Are you blushing?" I asked him. He rubbed his face with the palm of his hand and shook his head slowly. "What's wrong? You've never been alone with a girl before?" He breathed a laugh, which can very well be the only proper sound he can make. Almost shyly, he shook his head. If he could speak, I'm sure he would have added more.

We stopped in front of my destination, and I caught the disappointment in his eyes. For a reason unexplainable, I couldn't stand seeing that look in his beautiful eyes. I let my arms fall to my side and I smile. "I won't forget you. We can be friends can't we." His eyes were wide and he shook his head furiously. The pad and pen fall into his hand and he hastily writes, "Trouble".

"We won't get in trouble. It'll be a secret." He was reluctant, but slowly nodded. In truth, I didn't intend for our friendship to last anymore than the time of the Hunger Games. Boy, was I wrong.

* * *

Rhys's eyes were on me when I drifted awake. Upon seeing the District 8 tributes shake hands on the television, I sorely realized that I had slept through the entire District 8 reapings.

"Well good morning, sleepy head," Robin says playfully. I twist my head around and find her sitting in the forgotten tables with a platter of food in front of her. Marit sits at her side. I glance around and see Rhys picking up the forgotten plates and refilling the buffet table. As I look closely, I see the worn pad of paper at his waist.

"Thanks for waking me up," I mutter angrily.

"You looked so peaceful. Besides, you didn't miss anything with District 8," Marit argues. She's probably right, but I'm angry nonetheless.

Rhys walks toward me and gives me a clean white envelope with my name written on it in beautiful calligraphy. I know that it's his writing the minute I look at it. Smiling warmly at him, I mutter a "thank you". He gives me a small bow and continues cleaning.

I don't open it until he leaves. "Miss Ariadne, they have assigned me to your floor for the rest of the year. I will personally see that you are properly cared for. Sincerely, Rhys." I smile then crumple the note and stuff it into my pocket to burn later. I love his subtlety.

"I thought you two were talking anymore," Robin says as she sits next to me.

"Technically there is no talking going on." She opens her mouth to reply, but quickly closes it when Marit comes to sit with us. Although she isn't as foolish as some of the other Gamemakers, being Capitol raised can ruin your view on people, especially Avoxes. She would not understand my relationship with Rhys.

"The District 8 girl was okay, but she has a lame arm. I don't think she'll make it far." I nod at Marit's words. The girl would probably get pity from sponsors, but definitely not the tributes.

When District 9 appears, I focus only on the tributes in order to try to make up for the loss of District 8. There seems to be little dislike for either tributes, and I agree.

The male is Gamil Calixto. His reaction was different from the others. He managed to keep his head up and walked almost cockily to the stage. There was a similar feeling of dislike I had in him, though, like Jen, I didn't particularly know why. He has spiked, straight, dark brown hair that falls over his dark green eyes a little bit. His toned tan body gives him a certain appeal that must have sent the women of the Capitol crazy. His gaze is filled with arrogance, but I can see the intelligence in his stare. How he is secretly processing the last of his home. It was a promising stare that I make sure to write down.

Cressida Johansen is his district partner. She acted naturally to the reaping, never letting herself spill out the emotions, yet letting a few take a quick peak. She was considerably shorter than Gamil, but maybe not as small as Smith. Her brown hair is twisted into a messy bun that seemed to spill out of its hold. Her green eyes are closed for the majority of the ceremony, mostly likely to stop herself from spilling unnecessary tears. She seems at odds with herself, like a living paradox.

As I finish jotting down what I observed about Cressida and Gamil, I feel the note that Rhys wrote burn a hole through my pants, with Marit's eyes being the lighter. This is not the first time I feel the pressure of being his friend, or wonder what would happen to us if they were to see us together. It's a potential killer.

"There's no such thing as too much food is there," Marit laughs playfully as she glances at the food Rhys has placed on the platters. Robin growls at the quantity of it all, muttering how there are people in the Districts dying of starvation while we have food to spare.

While I may be familiar with not having enough to eat, I have never went to bed starving. Robin, on the other hand, despite her intelligence, is very close to the horrible monster. She once told me that she somehow survived four days without food before finding something. It's one of the reasons she has begun to despise the special treatments the Capitol is getting.

The other Gamemakers file in from the balcony and begin speaking to each other in loud, boisterous tones. Marit is quick to get up and try joining in on the conversations, isolating Robin and I. I don't take it personally. She's young and alone, and she will need to bond with these people for the next few weeks.

Through strained ears, Robin and I watch the remaining Districts and their reapings. As usual nothing interesting happens and I get about four promising tributes:

The District 10 female named Ceres Kirby. Being only thirteen, I find it a little difficult to make it on my list, but there is a strength about her. Whether it be the way she boldly ran to her younger sisters before going to the stage, or how she, somehow, managed to not shed a tear during the rest of the ceremony, she is definitely not what she appears. She is incredibly small though, maybe the same size as Smith. She looks like a fragile glass ball, easily breakable and will crack if held the wrong way.

Both District 11 tributes showed some promise.

Sam Stewart was the boy. He has jet black hair that stops just above his piercing green eyes that are framed by long lashes. His olive skin contrasts against the heavy bags under his eyes and the various scars on his body. He showed little fear upon being reaped and even seemed arrogant about it. While I think his hauteur will get the best of him, I think he'll be a strong tribute emotionally if not physically too.

Jasmine Hollis is something else entirely. I see at least one every year who can read people almost as well as I can, most of the time from emotional stress and such. Jasmine's abuse is clear from the near invisible scars etched across her left leg. Whether it is from a family member or a boyfriend is hard to tell from appearance alone. Her ebony black hair falls in ringlets about her shoulders. Her deep tan skin is typical of any District 11 citizen and it contrasts the white, knee-length dress with various bronze leaves and branches sewn into the fabric. Her body type is lean, and slightly muscular, and she's probably a climber in her district. She stares at Sam and the others of her district with calculating eyes almost as if she were reading their very thoughts. I wonder if I look like that when I read people.

And finally, District 12. His name is Brican Mastez. He is tall with curly brown hair and soft blue eyes. The jagged pink scar along his cheek twists into a half smile, mocking me from afar. In truth, he wouldn't have even made my list if it weren't for the way he held himself. It wasn't necessarily arrogance, but more self assurance, the type of quality that could very well bring you to the end (and I've seen it done before).

At the end of the reapings, we gather together so Baruch could make his annual toast to the Games. Rhys is filling up the champagne glasses in a fury with a few other Avoxes at his side.

"I'd like to thank all of you for joining me for the Hunger Games this year," Baruch begins with a strong booming voice. "I suspect that this year will be one of our very bests." A few of the veterans (myself included) chuckle at his words. He says that every year.

"Nonetheless, you all are great thinkers and I expect you all to be at your greatest this year. I have been told that this will be my last year as Head Gamemaker." Murmurs erupt in the room. Baruch has been the Head for nearly twelve years. He's the only one I've ever worked with. The next Head will be going under a great shadow. "I know, I know. It's heartbreaking for me too, but I am glad for the retirement. Now, I say this now because I get to recommend someone for my place. As of right now, I have an idea, but this person can easily be taken down with the perseverance of you all." We all know he's taking about Gavyn. He's been a Gamemaker for nearly ten years. But I am surprised by the number of glances turned my way.

"Enough sad news. The 37th Games are beginning and this is not a time for sadness. It is a time for celebration and remembrance of the Dark Days. How the Capitol will always prevail." Most of the Gamemakers mutter their agreements, but Robin and I do little else than stare at the Capitol citizens amongst us. "With the help of Ms. Ariadne and our newest Gamemaker, Wayne, we have created an arena that will go down in history." An applause follows. I receive several pats on the back and a small smile from Robin.

Rhys hands me a glass of champagne with a subtle grin as Baruch lifts up his cup. "To the Capitol and to the republic of Panem!"

"To Panem!" we chorus as our glasses clink against each other.

As I sip the bubbly liquid, I catch Rhys at the corner of my eye. As strained as our relationship may be at times, it is always the worst during the Games, because I am the enemy to most. I am the Gamemaker. I provide the Capitol's amusement. I see children, District children that I once called my own, when they are at their weakest. And I control it all. Rhys blames the Capitol for the way things are and in a sense he blames me.

And for the first time in my career, I hate that.

**Aw, I love Rhys. He's my favorite OC...**

**Anyway! My apologies to the last few District tributes for not getting a proper reaping. But, if I had to do another monotonous reaping again, I was going to shoot the story. So if you really, desperately, life changingly wanted me to write a proper reaping for you, I'll put it as an extra at the end (probably in the tribute's POV). **

**While writing this, I had a major writing block (one that I've experienced time and time again) where I almost left you all hanging because I got bored of writing the reapings and such. But, when I finally checked my mail and read all of your reviews (15 plus emails after Saturday alone), my excitement for the story was renewed (a few other factors are added in, but I'd rather not go into detail about that). So congratulations for keeping me motivated! You all get a huge hug and more of this story! Haha, I think that's a good deal.**

**I really just love you all! You make my day most of the time.**

**And the REAPINGS ARE OVER! YEAH!**

**Fun Question:**

_Where would the Capitol approximately be in present-day America?_

**By the way the answer to the last one was 2 o'clock.**

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*Finz*


	8. Welcome to the Capitol

Welcome to the Capitol

As a rule, we are not allowed to see tributes or mentors throughout the entire duration of the Hunger Games. Except, I've never been one for rules. Like Rhys for example...

When the District 2 train pulls into the station, reporters and cameramen of all types rush to get a glimpse of the newest tributes. I lean back against the wall as Maeve and Celer are rushed into the Remake Center to begin their makeovers. The cameramen follow them and finally I see my brother.

Theseus is my elder by three years, though he can easily be taken for my twin. Always being small in stature, he made up for the fact with his toned muscles and thinned figure. He and I have the same sandy blond curls that fall lifelessly about our heads and shade of blue eyes. He's only an inch taller than me, though when he looks at me with his adoring gaze, I feel like a child staring up her father.

"Ariadne," he says softly. I run to him like how we used to do when we were children. He catches me in my tracks and lifts me up by my waist, spinning me around. I feel four years old again, racing through the bustling streets of District 2.

"I've missed you so much," I tell him as he sets me down.

"Me too." I embrace my big brother, taking in the distinctive smell of peppermint and red wine. He laughs a little and pats my damp blonde hair.

"You know, in the Capitol, this would be a fashionable offense. They can keep you in jail for at least two months for it," he says jokingly.

"I had to wash it," I say, remembering how difficult it was to take out my blue streak.

"Did you wash your hair, or did the machines?" I'm sure he doesn't mean to say it as bitterly as he did, but it doesn't stop the comment from striking a nerve.

"As long as I have fingers, I'll take care of myself." He smirks at my words.

"That's the little sister I know. The one who was born with a knife in her hand." It is the nickname I had earned when I was barely maybe five. My father always commented on how I could hold a knife like a natural and how I was a master at the craft at birth. I was the girl with the knife in her hand, the one not to trifle with.

"Speaking of," I say, "did Mum give you my bag?"

"Yeah," he says, pulling a weaved bag out from his duffel bag. I take it from his hands and peak inside. "Mum said that it's even better than the one from last year."

I pull out a block of wood and run a thumb over its smooth texture. _Straight from District 7, _I think as I smell the sweet pine. "What do you do with these anyway?" he asks me.

"They're my stress relievers." He raises an eyebrow and before he can say anything to me, I continue. "How is Mum these days?" He narrows his eyes at me before answering.

"She's good. Misses you, of course, but her carving takes a lot of her time." We link arms and begin walking down the main square. I smile at the image of my mother, hunched over her work desk with the lamp on and her fingers working hastily against the wood. The end result is always the most beautiful and polished piece of woodwork I've ever seen. "She made this for you," he continues, giving me a small carved clover pendent on a silver chain. "Said it would bring you luck."

I take it in my hand and admire her signature details that she applies. "It's beautiful," I finally say.

"Of course it is." I put on the necklace and admire the clover even more.

Theseus looks through his bag again until he has a photograph and a paperback book in hand. "I though you'd like to see how we're doing in District 2," he says giving me the picture. I smile at Theseus and mother standing proudly in front of our childhood home with his son, my nephew, at his side. He looks like his mother, whom regrettably died during childbirth. Seeing the beaming face of my brother's pride and joy lifts every sunken bone in my body.

"He's beautiful, Thes," I tell him.

"He reminds me of you." I smile sadly and before I can begin crying, I change the subject. "What's the book?"

"From Dad. He's still in District 9, so he thought he should send his love." He hands me the torn paperback and I note the ancient covering of the book. Not as old as _Lord of the Flies_, but probably pre-Panem. I smile at it, but I'm angered if my father thinks he can try winning me over with a book.

"Did he steal this from someone?" I reply bitterly.

"Ariadne..."

"I don't hear from him any other year. Why is he sending me something now?" He shrugs and glances at the cover.

"If I could read that man as well as you, then I wouldn't be here right now." I glare at him, but, nonetheless, tuck the book under my arm with the photo inside.

We are silent for a long time, until Theseus finally says, "Do you hate him because he's a Peacekeeper or because he left us countless times? If it's the former then, that's kind of hypocritical of you, considering your occupation." My brother's thoughtlessness is his signature quality, but despite the twenty-seven plus years I've spent with him, I still get offended by it.

"You've got no room to talk!" I snap. "You killed seven people when you were in the Games."

"That was a survival thing and you know it," he replies equally.

"That excuse would have worked if you didn't volunteer for it. You knew what you were doing in volunteering and you did it anyway." As much as he may want to lash out at me, he knows this is the truth, the same way I know he is also right.

"Can we not fight this year," he pleads in a small voice. "We bicker at each other every year and we always leave angry or bitter. I miss you and I don't want to leave on a low note this time." I nod at his words, trying my hardest to keep all of my bottled up emotions at bay.

"Okay. I agree. We can't fight, at least not as bad as last year." He wraps his arm around my shoulder, pulling me closer to him.

"Do you remember when we went to the Capitol with Dad when we were kids? Everything looked so different then," he says.

"Yeah." I breathe a laugh. "Even then I knew that these people were ridiculous." We guffaw against the bustling city enjoying each others' company for the first time in what feels like eternity.

* * *

Robin keeps an easy eye on the oncoming tributes from the balcony of our shared apartment. I gather my carving tools and a few pairs of clothes. As a compensation for having to stay together during the Hunger Games, the Capitol supplies each Gamemaker a suite in what is now called the Magic Center, where we control and watch everything that happens in the Hunger Games. As a former president once said, "It's where the magic happens."

"District 4 just came in," she announces.

"Did they?" I say softly.

"Mhmm. Hey, I did some research yesterday and did you know that Jen was supposed to move here with her family?"

"Jen?"

"Jen. Jenna. Jenna Perry."

"Oh. Well why didn't you just Jenna?"

"Because Jen's shorter." I roll my eyes.

"By one syllable."

"Whatever!" she exclaims throwing her arms in the air. "So _Jenna's_ stepfather was supposed to teach the Capitol kids. They meant to move in on Thursday." I move next to Robin and glance at Jenna and Vaughn as they are trailed by paparazzi.

As I gaze at her again, I catch the familiar tang of dislike I felt the first time I saw her, except this time I know why. She's a pretender, the type who will lie and cheat to get by. It's not necessarily a bad thing, but it irks me a little.

"You going to the opening ceremonies this year?" Robin asks pulling away from the balcony.

"You know how I feel about that." She laughs a little and nods at my words. It is a well known fact that the opening ceremonies (particularly the chariots) are the most superficial part of the Hunger Games. I mean, who cares if you're wearing the most beautiful dress to represent your District. In the end it's skill that can help you survive, not whether you look pretty. Still, I didn't make up the rules, and the Chariots are good for sponsorship and such.

"So you're having Rhys over then," she asks playfully. I glare at her, but I have no doubt that the blood rushed to my cheeks at her comment.

"No. He has to work you know." She smiles, but then puts her hand on my shoulder. My eyes meet hers and I quickly catch her unease over the subject. I mentally sigh.

"I know I've told you this before," Robin begins.

"Many times before."

Her eyes harden a little. "I know I've told you this before, but is being friends with Rhys really smart? I mean, this isn't District 2 anymore. You can't be friends with whoever you want. They have a social status here and they'll break your neck if they find out you broke it."

"Robin Carspian, I have never known you care about this kind of stuff."

"I don't," she states plainly. "But it doesn't mean you shouldn't be wary about it."

"If _you_ don't worry about it, why should I?"

"Because I'm not spending as much time as possible with someone who is branded a slave." She doesn't mean it, maybe not intentionally anyway. It isn't much of the comment that catches me off guard, but the rashness of her words. Robin may have snapped at me four times at most, this being one of them, and every time I have no idea how to respond.

"I'm sorry," she quickly says. "I didn't-"

"Don't worry. You're right. I shouldn't hang out with him, but frankly, I don't give a damn. I mean, other than you, no one else knows about it anyway."

"Cameras, Ariadne." She's right, but I'm not giving up.

"What's the worst they could do to me if they find out?" She bites her lip, probably from imagining what the Capitol would do. "Robin. Nothing will happen," I reassure her. "At worst, I'd be fired and sent home."

"You don't know that. What if they make you an Avox too. They could see it as if you were a traitor by communicating with another traitor." The truth of her words strike me like a horrible punch to the face. Still, ignoring someone because of what someone else thinks of them is wrong, and I tell Robin so.

"It doesn't matter what's right," she replies. "This is the Capitol. Their way or the highway." I don't want to admit her accuracy, so I try to make her feel better.

"I won't see him today," I promise. Ironically, this made it worse.

"What about the next day? Or the day after that? Or next week? One day will not make a difference in the long run, and you know it." I want to know why this has her so worked up, but I know better than to ask her now.

"Are you going to go to the Chariots?" I ask in an obvious attempt to change the subject.

"Yeah," she says softly, probably so she won't scream at me. "The District 6 stylist is always really good. I wanna see what she comes up with this time." I nod and glance out the window. A few more trains carrying tributes pull up and I feel my last few hours of certainty leave me. Every decision I make after this will not only affect me, but the lives of children and the families back home.

"One day, we won't have the Games, and none of these Capitol rules will matter any more. We'll be free to do what we want, when we want," I say blindly.

Robin gives me the saddest smile I have ever seen. "Too bad that day isn't today."

**This is more of an insight to Ariadne's mind than anything, but I needed it there. Thanks to **FoalyWinsForever **for giving me the idea of exploring the consequences of Ariadne's friendship with Rhys.**

**No chariot rides. Sorry, but I suck as describing outfits, almost as much as I hate reading them. Thanks for those who gave me one, though. **

**Also, what's up with everyone doing the 100th Hunger Games or Quarter Quells (I swear I saw six on the same page)? I mean for only getting one Quell every twenty-five years, there are a bunch of them out there. I guess they just like changing it, but that's not really in the spirit of the Games! I don't hate them or anything, but I guess it's just being over played.**

**With that little rant over with, let's get on with the Fun Question!**

_What was the 1st Quarter Quell?_

**Sponsor Points:**

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Peetniss4eva: 2  
teamawesome: 3  
ur1fan: 3  
Fragrance -Of-The-Paradox: 1  
FoalyWinsForever: 10

*FInz*


	9. Training: Day One

Training Day One

"I hate watching the training," Lady Grey whines. Many of us roll are eyes and the ones who aren't, are nodding their head in agreement. "It's so boring! It's not like they ever do anything anyway!"

"The training is for us to see their strengths and weaknesses. Without it, we won't know how to kill any of them." I get a few glances from my abrupt statement, but if I am anything but, then it'll fly over Lady Grey's head.

"Don't be ridiculous, Ariadne," she says. "The arena is already made and what goes on has almost nothing to do with training." I hate to admit it, but she has a little point (only about the arena). But that is only because she is apart of the video crew and not the Control group.

So that the Head Gamemaker doesn't have to hear twenty different opinions being yelled at him at once, he gets the smartest and most willing to help with the tributes' obstacles, the Control group, and then the rest find the most important parts of the Games and air them for the rest of Panem to see. I've been a Control for my entire time as a Gamemaker while Robin is part of the video crew. It's not that she couldn't be a Control if she wanted to, but she likes knowing that she didn't physically kill anyone.

We wait impatiently as the tributes slowly file into the training room. Celer and Maeve are the first ones in with Jen and Vaughn at their heels. The Careers of this Hunger Games. They murmur small words to each other and by the nods of each of their heads, they must have agreed on the alliance.

Flare and Argyros come in about five minutes after. Maeve and Vaughn go to Flare and ask if she is in the Careers with them. To my amazement, she shakes her head no. Maeve leaves with not even a nod to Argyros. Vaughn, on the other hand, asks him if he would join them. Unsurprisingly, he agrees and the others stare at Vaughn with angry eyes.

"That's sweet," Robin mutters under her breath.

"Depends on how you look at it," Gavyn says. "He'll be the first they kill in the event that they need to get rid of someone. In this case, it'd be better if he was alone."

The others come in large groups, all wearing similar outfits to their district partners. I catch Smith's eye as he stares nervously at us, sitting on our thrones above the actual training facility. We must look like monsters to them, cold harsh creatures who sleep soundly knowing that they are going to kill innocent children. One night with me and you'd know I sleep anything but soundly.

The training starts the minute Rooney and Brican, the District 12 tributes, rush into the room. The others throw them judgmental glances which easily fly off of Brican. Rooney, however, looks tentatively at her shoes, trying to disappear from their looks. I can't help but pity her a little.

The instructor describes in detail each station they could go to and continues to explain how things were going to work for the next couple of days.

Soon enough, the tributes scatter to their stations with the Careers going straight to the weapons. Unsurprisingly, Celer is a master swordsmen, wielding the weapon with such graceful ease. I smile, remembering how clumsy Theseus was when he finally got his hands on one. Maeve works similarly with her bow and arrow, catching each of her intended targets straight on. Jen sticks to throwing knives and practicing with a trident, which she uses with a skill way beyond mediocrity. Vaughn seems to consider going to the other stations, but eventually settles with the others, picking up a spear gun and shooting it with pin point accuracy. I tell Baruch to add a spear gun as one of the weapons at the Cornucopia.

Most of the other tributes stay away from the Careers and gravitate toward the more practical stations such as trappings and fire starting. Smith lingers with his district partner, Tirzah, but eventually goes to the knife throwing station. He picks up one of the knives and throws it as hard as he could. We're all surprised when he hits his target.

"Nice shot,"Robin mutters.

"Tell me about it," I say. I was going to continue when Cressida (who seemingly appeared out of no where) took the question right from my mouth.

"How'd you learn to do that?" He looks at her shyly before answering.

"There was never much to do in District 6. My friends and I would play darts and when we couldn't find darts, we used kitchen knives." He picks up another knife and gazes at the metal. "My name's Smith."

"Cressida." An odd pairing, I have to admit, but he seems to like the comfort that Cressida is offering. They stick together for majority of the stations, speaking little, but offering their opinions and help throughout the several skills. An alliance in the making.

Jen casts numerous amounts of glances toward the handsome Gamil, who moves from station to station too quickly for him to actually take in any amount of extra information. She turns to Vaughn several times, also, whispering and pointing at Gamil from afar. If anything, I'm sure she was as drawn to his handsome face as every other girl in the room, Gamemakers included. She doesn't stray away from the Careers, but she can't keep her eyes off of him either. He seems to be a big distraction for many.

When I take my eyes off of him, I see Jasmine focusing on the knot tying section, not even noticing the tentative glances from Brican. He stays with Rooney, but he seems to know that she would not last too long in the Games. Nonetheless, he doesn't leave her as he stares almost longingly at the abused District 11 girl. He, too, seems to harbor a good skill. At the knifing station where the show the tributes how to properly skin meet and such, he uses the carving knives perfectly. Rooney stares intently at his movements, though I'm sure he really only wants Jasmine's eyes on him.

Ceres and Halsey seem to wonder around on places where they know the least about and keeping as far away from other tributes as possible. Only once did the two actually end up at the same station and that was when the only free area was plant identification. They're strong competitors though, that's evident enough by their show of averageness.

The other tributes try to stay hidden in what they think are their greatest skills. I prepare myself to join my fellow Gamemakers to the buffet table when I see Nicholas Jackson.

I almost forgot about him. The District 7 boy. Robin told me about him when we were on our way to the Training floor (she loves doing research on all of the tributes). He quit school at sixteen after an accident with his father at one of the logging camps. He's with a team of four other guys that controls the green chain. His mother works at a supplies store and rumor has it that he has a crush on one of the girls who works there. Robin told me her name, but it escapes me now.

He is at the sword station, taking in the feel of the weapon. He watches Celer wield it too, and eventually he attempts to spar with the expert. He doesn't do too bad for a first try, but if he wants it to be his actual weapon, he needs to practice more. Still, he picks up the craft almost too easily.

"He shows promise." I turn around and face Lee.

Avonlea "Lee" Blythe is one of the most soft spoken Gamemakers of the group. She doesn't speak unless spoken to, and even then it doesn't last too long. She is also my greatest supporter, always the first to back me up no matter what I am saying. Plus, she's one of the few Capitol people I can stand to be around for more than a couple of hours.

"Nicholas? Of course he does. Didn't you see how quickly he got used to the sword." She walks to the empty space beside me and stares more tentatively at the boy.

"That craft takes years to master," she adds.

"But it's still one of the better ones out there. I mean, better than not being able to use anything." She agrees with me. We are silent watching the tributes with unwavering eyes.

"Who's your favorite?" I ask her suddenly.

"I'm not entirely sure. Smith shows promise. Not the type you'd expect from a twelve-year-old. But what Vaughn did earlier was interesting, with Argyros I mean." I take my time answering, adding and subtracting the multiple weaknesses and strengths of each tribute.

"I think Celer has the biggest chance."

"You're just saying that because he's from District 2."

"No, have you been watching him? He'd kill every single one of these tributes without a blink of an eye, and as much as that scares me, I know it's what he needs to win."

"Is Ariadne going to finally cheat for her District?" I glare at her. It has been a horrible rumor ever since I started working here that I purposely shift the Games in favor of District 2, though there has never been any evidence and I never really did it. They even have bets among themselves to see how long it would take me to cheat.

"No," I reply bitterly, "and truth be told, I don't _want_ him to win. I'd rather it go to a district who really needs the extra money and food. District 2 doesn't need any of that." I would never tell anyone this, but if I were to cheat I would do it for District 5.

Robin and Marit talk quietly to themselves, pointing at random tributes and having small arguments over each of them. Lee keeps her eyes on Smith, Nicholas, and Vaughn taking small notes on their different mannerisms and strengths. That's a problem with most Gamemakers. They find the one tribute they like and ignore the others, but to properly project the vulnerability and weaknesses that are the Hunger Games you have to see, and I mean really see, all of them.

The bell rings for lunch and the tributes file into the cafeteria. The Gamemakers who were not eating before quickly rushes to the table to make sure there is still warm food left.

"I'm going to watch the tributes," I tell Lee quietly. "You wanna join me?" I'd ask Robin, but I already know she'll decline. She tries her hardest not to get attached to the tributes every year, but she inevitably fails in the end. Lee glances at the table then nods, following me into the hallway that leads to the Watchroom.

The Watchroom is a small space that is just above the cafeteria. There's a large one way mirror that asks as our main wall and televisions on the sides that pick up the frequency and sound waves from the cameras. It makes us seem like stalkers, but it is the only sure fire way of knowing what the alliances are.

As expected, most of the tributes stay away from each other, save for the Careers, who sit at the round table in the middle of the room. I consider going back to the buffet table when I see Smith shyly walk to where Cressida is sitting.

"Hey," he says to her.

"Hey, Smith."

"Do you mind if I sit here?" She seems reluctant, but eventually smiles and nods. "Thanks," he says sitting in the seat across from her. They begin with gentle small talk such as their likes and dislikes of training and such. The two steer away from any home talk, probably so they won't shatter their already fragile relationship. By the end though, I'm pretty sure they have created themselves an alliance.

Aside from them, there is only one person who attempts to sit with another tribute and that is Brican. He does not sit with Rooney as he probably should have, but instead makes a beeline for Jasmine Hollis, who blindly plays with her food at a square table. He stands over the empty chair for a few minutes, considering going to a free table before he finally says, "Is this spot free?"

"Yes," she replies flatly. Brican moves to pull out the chair when her eyes sudden fly up to his. "I didn't say you can sit there." He shocked by her statement, but nonetheless, sits down.

"You were really good in training today," he says softly. She nods her head in thanks, eying him tentatively, a look I'm sure I've given plenty of people.

"You know, my little sister and I would always joke about running away to District 11 when we were younger." He laughs at the memory, hoping to get something out of Jasmine. To my surprise she cracks a sarcastic smile.

"11 isn't a place for someone like you." I'm not sure if she meant this as an insult or a compliment. Either way, Brican took it as the latter.

"Thanks. My dad was a joiner back home. I know almost as much about carving as he did." This seems to catch her attention, and Brican continues. "Yeah, I can probably carve anything I come across, even a rock. I tried that once, you know. It didn't turn out too good, but it was fun experience."

"You're good with knives?" she asks.

"Probably one of the best. Well, maybe not. That District 9 kid seemed a lot better."

Throughout the remaining lunch hour, Brican told her numerous stories of his life in District 12, slowly winning her over with all of the random experiences he's had over the years. He especially wins her sympathy when he tells her how his dad used to hit him. Seeing as she went through a similar situation, I can tell she definitely has some kind of bond with him, one that she didn't have before.

By the end of the lunch period, my stomach was growling so loudly I couldn't control it anymore.

"You can eat first," Lee says as we head back into the training room. "I'll keep watch until you're done and I'll let you know if something happens." I nod gratefully and go to the buffet table.

"Hey," Robin says as she stands next to me. I eye the bowl of fruit at her side and take a bright red apple. "Were you spying again?"

"Not technically," I say taking a large, wet bite of the fruit. She glares playfully at me, but then begins to tell me of what she thinks of the new tributes. As always, she doesn't have a bad thing to say about any of them, save for Celer whom she referred to as the "Beast of District 2".

"Ariadne," Lee calls to me. I put down my plate and go to her, picking up a carrot stick on the way.

"What? What is it?"

She points. "Jenna."

The District 4 tribute strays away from the Careers for the first time that day and goes to Gamil who is putting most of his attention into the knot tying station.

"Hey," she says. "I'm Jen." He looks up at her and flashes her a handsome smile.

"Gamil." He holds out his hand and she shakes it happily.

"I was wondering if you'd like to join us. The Careers' alliance, I mean." He glances to where Celer is sparring with the trainer, easily beating the master in combat.

"Thanks for the offer, but I don't think so." I raise an eyebrow at him and Lee chuckles.

"A-are you sure?" Jen asks, obviously confused and a little embarrassed.

"Yeah, I'm sure." She seems to want to bargain with him, but instead she nods sadly and walks back to the others, casting one more glance to the handsome boy.

"Who woulda thunk?" Lee says.

"Seriously," I agree. Then, after remembering what Gavyn said earlier, I add, "Though, it is smart on his side, considering it's the extra baggage that goes first."

**I know, I know. It's a pretty sudden ending, but there's nothing else that was going to happen so, I just stopped there. And I don't know if there's going to be a Day Two of training, so if I jump from One to Three, don't freak out on me.**

**If you don't like what Ariadne thinks of them, then I'm sorry. But there is nothing I can do about it now. When I write, I only pay attention to what I think Ariadne would feel or react, nothing else, ergo, I can't really change what she would naturally think or do. So yes, I'm sorry if it doesn't suit your likings, but please deal with it because the Games are going to be legen-wait for it-dary!**

**However, if you think I'm interpreting you're character's personality wrong, then you just let me know and I'll try to change it accordingly. **

**Also, if you desire for your tribute to have a token, then please let me know. I forgot to add it in the tribute form because I didn't think it was important, but then I'm going to need it for later. I don't need it from everyone, but it is well preferred. And if you want your tribute to act a certain way during the interviews also tell me. Bad planning on my part for leaving this stuff out. I'll go based on personality if you don't really care.**

**So, the question is:**

_What is Katniss's favorite food dish at the Capitol?_

**Sponsor Points:**

Max Alleyne: 15  
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Hahukum Konn: 14  
spindleberried: 15  
Frenzied Warrior:18  
L. JSmithLover24: 4  
The Essence of Fire: 1  
Mosstail21: 3  
Peetniss4eva: 2  
teamawesome: 3  
ur1fan: 3  
Fragrance -Of-The-Paradox: 2  
FoalyWinsForever: 12  
Skybones: 14

*Finz*


	10. Training: Day Two

**I'm calling it Training Day 2, even though it doesn't really cover the training. It's more of Ariadne with the review board and a chance meeting with the future President Snow.**

Training: Day Two

I hadn't realized until I got to the training room that the review board was meeting today. It's one of the most boring times of the Hunger Games (in my opinion), but rather me than someone else, I guess. It is required for there to be at least one Gamemaker on the review board, seeing as it is the Gamemakers who will be seeing the tokens inside of the arena.

When I finally arrive at the Meeting Room, they've already began. The review board consists of a few chosen mentors, a few government officials, and then Baruch and another Gamemaker (me). Last year, Gavyn was on the review board, but this time, Baruch wanted me to do it. He said that Gavyn lacked the imagination needed to see the tokens. He must have been pissed when the District 8 tributes used their pins to try to kill the others last year.

"Nice of you to finally join us, Ariadne," Baruch says a little bitterly as I sit in the free seat beside him and my brother, whom became apart of the board only because of his previous training with the Games.

"I'm sure I wasn't missed too much."

They continue without bothering to fill me in, immediately pulling out Maeve's token. It's a pearl bracelet, intricately woven of pearls of all sizes. It doesn't seem like something that would remind her of home, but who am I to judge. Theseus's token was a carved horseshoe that I made when I was four.

We pass the bracelet around closely examining it. The others dismiss it almost immediately, but when it reaches Theseus and I, we take turns moving the pearls in our palms, taking in everything we could about the design. Then when Theseus is about to pass it on, I see a small hole, maybe big enough for a paperclip. I point it out to the others and we search a while for something small enough to fit in the hole.

"It could be nothing," Ilisabeth says. She is the District 12 mentor and the first winner from the district. I remember her Games. She won because her family owned the butchery and she managed to kill the others with her knowledge of all the different knives and such. She was shaken up at the interviews though, and still appears to be disturbed now.

"True, but it's not a risk we want to take," someone says.

We find a paperclip and stuff it into the little hole. A small _click_ is heard, as though a key was inserted into the lock. I turn the piece of metal in my hand and the top of the pearl pops up. I jump a little as my brother takes what is in the pearl. It's a small vial of a black liquid. He smells it before putting a little on the tip of his tongue. Before we know it, he starts laughing.

"It's poison," he proclaims after his laughter subsides. "Of course that girl would bring her own concoction into the arena." The others don't think it's funny. The toss the bracelet to the side, deciding to confront her later.

We move on. District 3 doesn't have any tokens, whether it is because they are too cocky to think they would need one, or if they even have something that could help them remember their home is beyond me. So District 4 is next.

Jenna Perry sports the same style as Maeve, though I highly doubt she has poison in hers. Though, the District 4 mentor, Douglas, says that it was the hairband she wore on the day of the reaping. I don't recall her hair being up, but I don't try testing Douglas's memory. After all he is pushing forty-seven.

Vaughn's token is different. It's a necklace with a driftwood carving of a ship's wheel. It almost looks as though it was something my mom would carve, but it lacks the detail that she would have naturally added. Still, it is a beautiful carving.

"It's from his dad," Douglas says. (Douglas likes giving back stories to his tributes, whether we enjoy it or not. He says it reminds us that these tributes are, in fact, children. To me, it just gives me a stomach ache.) "He gave it to me before we left on the train. He said something about telling him about being the 'master of his own fate.'"

"_Inviticus_," I say.

"Yes. He said that was the name of the poem. How do you know?" I get a couple of curious stares and a few more angry ones.

"I read it back home. It was a good poem." We clear the necklace and continue.

As always, the tokens are more of something personal than something actually from their district. It ranges from twine anklets from brothers (like Halsey) to a cherished possession from their parents (like Flare's round diamond). Nicholas Jackson has a ring. Many of us mistake it for an engagement ring (something he wanted to give his paramour back home, but Ilisabeth clears it up for us.

"Walden said that it was from his grandfather's wedding ring. He said he asked Nicholas when he gave it to him to give to us. It's very important apparently."

We argue a while about the ring, saying that it could be used as an enforcer if he plans to fist fight. We go at it for a while and it's only when I tell them that Nicholas hasn't even stepped toward the fist fighting station that they agree to give it to him.

As we continue, the officials seem to want to have an argument over every single token, noting how it's a potential weapon for hanging or to throw at someone or for one thing or another.

It was when they tried telling us that Jasmine Hollis's necklace replica of jasmine flowers could lure tributes to her with the beauty of it that Theseus finally said something.

"Anything can be used as a weapon, even your clothes if you let it be, yet we aren't throwing the tributes in the arena naked. Whether we like it or not, they will do what they want with whatever they've got."

* * *

The sun had already began set when we were released from the confined prison. Most of the members of the board left immediately to their respected quarters for dinner, but I decided to do a couple of laps around the courtyard before meeting the other Gamemakers at the dining hall.

"Ariadne." I turn around and is greeted by President Hale's smiling face. The forty-nine-year-old president has been a favorite for many years. While he may condone the Hunger Games, he wants peace in Panem, unlike many other officials who just want power.

"Hello, sir," I say with a grin. He puts a fatherly arm around my shoulder and leads me to the courtyard. When my father worked as his Peacekeeper, I had to come with him, seeing how he refused to leave the last person he truly had. President Hale adored my company almost as much as I adored his.

"Ah, my dear, how much I have missed your company."

"Me too, sir."

"Oh, you must be busy with this year's Games. I've heard you created the arena this year."

"I had help."

"Don't be silly. I know the actual design was yours. Hell, they had me approve it. And the design is all that truly matters right." I laugh a little, knowing that it'd be futile to argue with him.

"Have you heard from my father?" I ask. I have information on everyone, except him, and although I may hate him, I _do_ want to know that he's safe.

"Your father? I believe Minos is this in District 9, but I'm considering bring him back to the Capitol to stay with me." My eyes narrow a little as I look at him.

"What for? Did he do something wrong?"

"Your father always does something wrong." We laugh for a moment and continue our circle of the courtyard.

"Seriously though, sir, did something happen to him?"

He sighs, his plump round stomach expanding past its normal capacity. "This happened maybe five years ago. It was his second year in the district and... well you were a Gamemaker then. Don't you remember what happened in District 9 that year."

I do remember. Robin was sick the first day and we had watched it at home instead of the viewing room with the others. A boy, no older than my nephew at the time, had started crying and said words that I couldn't understand on our little television. Everyone was startled and his father couldn't keep him quiet. I figured that he would just stop eventually, but then he started throwing stuff toward the stage. The small family ran away the minute the could. I remember Robin had laughed a little saying, "See, even a four year old knows that this is bad."

"What about it?" I say to him.

"Well, Minos and a few of the other Peacekeepers thought of the outburst as a rebellious act and they decided to take care of it as any other rebellion." He pauses and I stare at him blankly. Then I realize what he was saying.

"No," I breathe. "He didn't kill that little boy did he?"

"Well, he didn't, but from the report, he was the one who whipped the father to pry him out of his hands. He's been abused by a couple people recently because of it." Hale's face saddens a little as he looks into my horror filled eyes. How could he do such a thing? How could he kill a child when he had two of his own, not to mention a grandson of the same age?

Just when I am about to respond, a young man walks up to us, his sharp features and knowing grin make me want to lash out at him for interrupting us.

"Coriolanus," Hale says as his young adviser stops before us. "Snow, you remember Ariadne Zartonigh." I give him a cold glare, reading him as a snake that I know he is. He stays hidden well enough, his name actually known by only a few people, but the more I look into the small brown slits, I know that he is trouble.

Under my gaze, he adjusts the red rose pinned to his coat and gives me a large toothy smile with his expanded lips. "Yes, of course I remember her. I clearly remember spending time with her during the odd summers that her father was here." The words appear to be normal, but I can hear the mocking tone and disgust behind his words. Like many others, he doesn't think I belong here. Seeing my unfaltering expression, he runs a hand though his already graying brown hair and turns to Hale.

"Cabot asked for you to go over the train backup from District 11 to 12."

The president nods at the urgency of the request and rushes to the doors on the other side of the courtyard. He cries his farewell to me just as he disappears behind the doors. And now it is just me and Coriolanus.

"I trust your work with the Hunger Games this year is going well." His condescending tone drives me bonkers and as much as I would like to personally show him my knife skills, I decide to fight his game.

"Trust if you want, though your faith does little to us." His expression hardens.

"Ariadne, I am not someone to trifle with."

"Your threat falls on dead ears Snow. For you must know by now that I can surely overpower you."He guffaws at me as if I had just said a hilarious joke.

"Some things you just can't see coming."

Ilisabeth walks past us, darting her eyes away from Snow as she rushes away. I catch Coriolanus's lustful gaze toward her as she disappears through the same door that Hale went through minutes ago.

"It is a waste how some winning tributes are being used." I glare at him as I thought of my brother being used in the same sense that Snow was inferring.

"They aren't sex slaves. They deserve their comfort after the Games." He licks his lips toward the door then finally looks back at me.

"They shouldn't think they can overpower the Capitol. That's what the... _Pleasure_ system would be used for." My heart drops at his choice of words. I open my mouth to reply, but he is quick to continue. "You know, you Gamemakers always treat the District 1, 2, and 4 tributes above the others."

"They're called Careers and we don't treat them differently, they train so they already know how to overcome most obstacles."

"Now you say most, so why don't you throw the ones that they can't overcome at them." The sadistic pleasure behind his suggestion strikes me cold.

"The Games are used to keep the Districts in line, not corrupt the hope of survival." He frowns at me.

"It's to provide amusement for the Capitol as well. When I become President, things will be different. The Gamemakers will follow my image of the Games and the districts would never question my rule. They would be kneeling at my feet." He looks at me with a mocking grin and leans in toward me, the fumes from his rose attacking my sensitive nose. "And you will be at my will."

More out of instinct than anything else, I punch him in his gut, making him hunch over, clenching his stomach. He throws insults at me, calling me a "dirty District 2 whore" among other things. It was my turn to laugh.

"You seem to miss interpret many things Snow, so I will help you out a little. The Games are fine the way they are and you're little 'dream' of Panem won't come to pass. And as long as I'm here and Hale is president, I will make sure you never feel even a sliver of power."

And because I felt like it, I threw a fist toward his nose, pleasing myself with the crack that follows. He clenches his nose, tears mixing in with the thick blood. I will remember this image of him if he were to ever try climbing up the power ladder. The image of him as a small being, just a breakable as any other person in the world. No matter how many guards he may have in front of him one day, he will always be the broken man with a broken nose.

"You'll regret this," he spits out with blood.

"Maybe, but at least I wasn't beaten up by a girl five inches shorter than them."

**And that is bad ass Ariadne. My personal favorite.**

**I know it's not edited. I didn't have a chance and I wouldn't be able to use the computer later on.**

**Note: there will be a few tie-ins to the events in the Hunger Games trilogy, President Snow being one of them. Caesar Flickerman being another, but that's for the interviews.**

**My deepest apologies for not updating last week. I lost track of my days and finals are in a couple of weeks so, it's been hard for school. But I managed to finish this, so that's a plus. **

**And to those who expect the Gamemakers to be the cruel and inconsiderate stereotype that surfaced, trust me, there are a few who are. One especially.**

**And now, the question:**

_Who is the original owner of the mockingjay pin?_

Max Alleyne: 17  
KatnissIsTheLove: 20  
FlitterCherub: 10  
amazingbliss24: 8  
Maximum Warrior-of the Games: 10  
Claratrix LeChantham: 14  
Hahukum Konn: 16  
spindleberried: 17  
Frenzied Warrior:20  
L. JSmithLover24: 4  
The Essence of Fire: 1  
Mosstail21: 3  
Peetniss4eva: 2  
teamawesome: 3  
ur1fan: 3  
Fragrance -Of-The-Paradox: 2  
FoalyWinsForever: 14  
Skybones: 15  
SimplySarcastic18: 3

*Finz*


	11. Training: Day Three

**Training: Day Three**

I stand in the middle of the training gymnasium, looking up at the empty seats that the Gamemakers normally take. It's strange seeing it from this view, and it's not a wonder why we appear so menacing to those outside of the Capitol. Always looking, evaluating, almost eagerly waiting to kill the tributes.

"What are you doing?" Lee asks as she pauses over her normal seat in the stands. I glance up at her, then return my gaze to the different stations and such.

"Did you know that I trained for the Games when I was younger." I look up to see her reaction. She doesn't seem to be surprised, but it intrigues her nonetheless.

"Really? Don't you normally train to actually be _in _the Games?"

"My brother went before I had a chance. My mother was so stressed when he left, I didn't want to have to put her through that again." Lee sits down, looking at me with interested eyes.

"Why are you telling me this now?"

"I think about it sometimes, you know. Back then, I was so sure what I was going to do every step of the way. I had it all planned in my head, right down to how I was going to survive long enough to kill the remaining Careers." I laugh a little. "I was always a planner back then."

We are silent for a while. There seems to be a question on her lips and she is debating whether or not to verbalize it. "I remember watching your brother's Games," she finally says. "He didn't have the normal training that the others had."

"That's because we weren't trained the same way the others were." I consider stopping there, but Lee deserves more of an explanation than that. "My father always thought that weapons were depended on too much when it came to the Careers. He said that if the supplies they had ever disappeared then they would die faster than flies to poison." I pause for a moment. "He was right of course, but back then it was just irritating. He taught my brother and I how to track animals, identify plants and handle wounds. Only after that did he teach us how to actually handle weapons." I close my eyes and throw my head to the side so Lee can't see my face. "To toughen us up, he wouldn't feed us some nights. He said that the other districts could survive days without food and when it came to hunger, we would come in last. My mom would always give us something, but it still hurt."

She doesn't seem to know what to say, but she responds nonetheless. "That's harsh for a father to do to his kids."

"At that point, he wasn't really my dad. He still isn't I guess." She leans forward, trying to get a better look at me.

"Is that why you became a Gamemaker?"

"For my dad? No. By that time, we've grown too far apart. I guess, I became a Gamemaker because I felt I know the Games better than they do. They're just random Capitol citizens. They don't have the same experience that I have when it comes to the strength and determination you need. The actual skill behind the victors." I shake my head, my blonde hair falling in front of me. "No, they only see the tributes as they are, and that is poor District children. They don't understand the emotions that come into play." There is another reason, one that I haven't come to terms with myself, but I make no mention of it.

"And that's why you're a great Gamemaker."

"Yeah," I say plainly. "The best."

I leave the training stadium and find my way to the Gamemakers spot with Lee. It's normal for the Gamemakers to be late on the last day of training because we're not really needed until after lunch. But seeing how I missed yesterday, I wanted to come early to see how they've come along.

By the time the tributes come in, Robin, Baruch, and surprisingly Wayne are the only other Gamemakers that show up.

"What are you doing here?" I ask him when steps in.

He raises and eyebrow at me. "Aren't we supposed to be here?"

I ignore him after that, deciding that he probably just didn't get the memo that he could come late. (Though even I had to put that idea into question when he didn't ask where the others were.) I needed to pay more attention to the tributes anyway.

Nothing too drastic has changed since the last time I saw them. Smith and Cressida seemed to have gotten closer, talking in more of the friendly way than the acquaintanceship they had before. I'm a little surprised, though, that Gamil seems to stay with the two of them from time to time. Cressida and Gamil are district partners, so I guess it is reasonable for them to want to team up.

The Careers remain Career-like, save for maybe Vaughn, who talks to Nicholas in between his swordplay practice and going to the other stations. Also, Sypher, the District 3 girl, whom I almost completely ignored until now, has joined the Careers. She's promising in her knot tying, but doesn't seem to hold the weapon strength that the others have. It makes me wonder why they let her join them in the first place.

Halsey and Ceres also grown a little closer, though it's harder to tell with them. They don't stay away like from the first day, but they don't talk either. They follow each other to the different stations, getting comfort from the other's presence more than anything. There are times when Halsey cracks a joke or comments on something, in which Ceres gives a small genuine laugh, but other than that, they are completely quiet. There is something there, I'm just not sure what it is yet.

That leaves Jasmine and Brican. Like Halsey and Ceres, they stick together, but even at the stations Jasmine tries to distance herself from him. He doesn't seem to mind, but it's when she doesn't respond to him that he seems to be concerned. She'd be too stubborn of an ally in my opinion, but Brican seems keen on sticking to her. 

The lunch bells rings too quickly for my likes and the other Gamemakers slowly file in. Robin scoffs at them, settling in her seat toward the end.

"They should at least show some kind of effort."

Marit sits beside her and I take my place in the middle beside Lee and Wayne. In the months prior, Wayne and I worked on creating the arena. For a long time, he would only tell me about the possible traps and all of the different ways that he could lead tributes to their death. In the end I created the arena and he filled it with all of the deadly shit he wanted.

Argyros comes in slowly, his obvious unsure appearance losing him points already. Baruch gives him a gentle nod at him to continue, and he practically runs to the weight area. He lifts up the one hundred pound weight over his head and throws it at a reasonable distance across the training gymnasium. He's stronger than expected and when he leaves, we give him a solid five.

Flare comes in less than a second after him. She wastes no time going to the knives and throwing them against the target. I don't recall seeing her go the throwing station before, but then again, I don't remember seeing much of her in practice. She must have stayed hidden in plain sight. She's actually really good. The second surprise I've had today and it's still the beginning. There is plenty of debate over her score because Lysander and Lady Grey argue that she missed the target a couple of times, so we decide to give her a six.

Lee glances at me, my fingers twitching toward my jacket pocket. I have my knife in there and a block of wood in the other. I'm itching to start carving now, but the tributes deserve my attention. She places one of her warm hand on mine and pulls it back toward my knee. I give her a grateful smile as Celer comes in.

I already know Celer's score when he steps into the gymnasium. He comes in, shows off his very impressive sword skills, and throws the knives as effortlessly as he wields the sword. He reminds me a little of my friend Laura when I was younger. She was the best fighter in the district, wielding any weapon that she comes across, yet her cockiness cost her the Games. She failed to learn how to swim and drowned. It seemed a little ironic back then. We give Celer a well deserved ten and move on.

Maeve receives a similar score, also showing off her weaponry. The Gamemakers are especially surprised when she runs around the gymnasium, shooting anything she can with pinpoint accuracy. She gives us a good show, and Lady Grey is grateful for it.

"I like her!" she exclaims. "I'm sponsoring her for as much money as I can carry."

When Sypher comes along, she ties a large net from a long strand of rope. It is an amazing skill, especially from someone who comes from District 3. The others think it's rather useless, though, so we give her a plain old three.

Vaughn comes into the room with the mindset of a district child, not a self assured Career. It makes me like him a little more. He looks at us a little unsurely, glancing at the multiple stations of weapons and such. It's obvious he doesn't know what to do, so he decides to pick up the spear gun from the pile of weapons and shoot it for a little bit. Halfway between his amazing precision, he drops the gun and rushes to the painting station and picks up a dummy. On the dummy's chest he writes, "Celer". I start laughing, though the others don't think it's as funny. He stands it upright then goes to the spear gun, reloads it, and shoots it straight into the dummy's heart.

I think it's funny, only because I've watched Vaughn in training and he would never do something like that. On the other hand, I've seen the two of them fight often, and it doesn't surprise me that he may want to do that to him. The others are impressed by his "eagerness" for the games and give him an eight.

Jenna's act doesn't beat Vaughn's in quality, but it's good nonetheless. She uses a trident mostly, and then spars with a spear and net, catching the dummy's arm with a net then stabbing them with the spear. She gets a nine.

I look forward to seeing Halsey's seeing as I haven't had much of a chance to see what she's really made of. She comes in and I can already see the anticipation in Robin's eyes. When we give her the okay to go, she stands there, almost unsure of what to do. Then her face lights up.

She runs to the rope tying station and begins making a rudimentary snare. (It's pretty simple and something I've seen almost every year.) She sets up the trap on the chinning bar then picks up a knife. (I have no idea what she's planning on doing.) Then she goes to the painting area and begins camouflaging her arms. (She's pretty good at that.) With the knife still in hand, she walks straight for the trap. Confusion is written on all of our faces as she is caught by the snare and is brought upside down. Then the arm with the blade climbs up her body. One hand cuts away at the rope while the other holds on to it. She frees herself with her knife and she jumps down with a soft _thud_.

I argue in her defense. It was a good show. She showed us that she could camouflage and make snares, but most importantly, she can easily get out of them. She's smart and decently strong. The others don't see it my way though. They give her a four.

Smith comes in next, looking very meek with his large blue eyes. When I look at him though, I can't help remembering the little boy who's hand shot up for the yellow fever kid. He is brave, no matter what the others say. The minute he gets the okay to go, he dashes into the smallest corner of the gymnasium, hiding himself almost perfectly in the crack. Then he hops up from his hiding place and climbs on top of the chinning bar. After he jumps down from that, he goes to the knives, throwing them with the similar precision that I saw on the first day. His score is unanimous. Seven.

Nicholas is the next one I am eager to see. He improved greatly at the sword and he seems to like the feel of the knives when he used them. Of course, it was nothing compared to Celer's raw power and overall mastery of the skill, but it was a great improvement from earlier in the week. He stops his swordplay suddenly and goes to the weights. Like Argyros before him, he lifts and throws a great amount of weight across the platform. His score is higher than Argyros's though because of his sword skills. He gets a six.

The District 8 tributes both get twos. I hold back my laughter after the girl, Atarah, nearly falls over herself and trips into the painting station. Paint flew everywhere and the Avoxes who had to clean up gave her dirty looks.

Gamil walks in after it's cleaned and rather pompously, he smiles at us. For a split second I see my nephew in his place. I note the obvious likeness between them. Their dark green eyes and equally dark hair are nearly identical, not to mention the way...

I shake my mind free of his image. Comparing tributes to loved ones is never a good thing in the Hunger Games.

As he continues his demonstration, I can't keep the thoughts of Theseus's son from my mind. He was so young when I left, and it'd be no surprise that he wouldn't recognize me. Though, I can imagine my mother sitting him on her lap and pointing at the television screen whenever I came up. "Look, Cinna, that's your auntie."

My mind drifts to my father and the little boy he had killed. Robin had done the research for me. She said his name was Bulri something. He looked a lot like my nephew too. I've been meaning to call my father. To yell at him for killing a boy so much like his grandson. To officially rip away whatever ties I have left with him. It's what he deserves. Only. I just can't get around to actually make the call.

I am awakened by Baruch telling Gamil that he could leave. I am ashamed that I didn't pay attention to him and even more humiliated that he only got a five because I couldn't argue on his behalf.

When Cressida comes in I am determined to pay more attention. I notice her very prominent limp as she walks in and I know that she already lost most of her points.

I glance at the other Gamemakers and notice how majority of them are nearly drunk. One more glass of wine and they will probably fall over with intoxication. Wayne leans toward me, trying to glance at my notebook. For a second I think that he is incredibly drunk and is simply attempting to balance himself, but then he goes back to his own scrap of paper and scribbles something down. My eyes go to the wine glass that is still full from his first serving. Not even a lip smear from a single sip.

I glance down the table. Lee has babysat her glass for majority of the session and from what I can tell from Robin, she's beginning her second glass. Personally, I took only a few sips, but only because I don't like the taste of wine.

Cressida is shooting small rocks with a slingshot. She has a decent amount of aim, but nothing compared to some of the others. She shows off her strength too, and I have to give her an extra point for that. Whether it is the booze or they are still fretting over her bad accuracy, they refuse to deter from her score of a five.

"You alright?" Lee asks softly.

"I'm fine. Why?"

"You look sick."

"I'm fine, Lee. I swear. I just need a glass of water." As if on queue, Rhys appears behind me and places a beautiful chalice of pure water in front of me. I smile at him and he holds my gaze for a second too long before leaving. When I take a sip of my water, I notice Lee's hard gaze on me.

"What was that?" she asks.

"What?"

"Did you know that Avox?" I shake my head. Lee knows something is up, but I know that she'll never say anything. At least if she does figure it out, I am sure she'll stay quiet.

Ceres comes in quietly. She shows us almost everything she has learned. She is pretty impressive, considering she only had two and a half days to train. I notice how she seemed to have slipped through the cracks between the different events and that, I think is her greatest gift. As always the Gamemakers don't see her the same way I do and give her a measly three.

When Jasmine walks into the gymnasium and stands right in the middle. She stares each of us in the eye until her eyes land on Baruch. What is she trying to do?

"You are bitter, probably because you have to sit through twenty-four of these sessions without a break. Or maybe it's because of that girl sitting two seats away from you." She looks at me. I know why Baruch is bitter. He thinks that I am trying to upstage him ever since I yelled at him during the reapings.

"And you," she says at me. "You seem to think that you are superior to the others, though you may not accept this. There's something else too. Something you're worried about or someone." I can't stop my eyes from jumping to Robin, who has been the only person I've been worrying about these days. Jasmine sees this too and goes to Robin.

"Finally, you. You don't belong here. You don't see the tributes like the rest of them do. I know. I've watched you during training. You always sympathize with us or think of us as equals. I think the real question is why you're a Gamemaker in the first place?"

Baruch dismisses her before she can tear apart anyone else. She was right about us, especially Robin. I realize that she has never told me why she became a Gamemaker, and now I am curious.

I glance back at her and she has big tears in her eyes. Why? What did Jasmine say to her that could have meant so much? For the first time since I met her, I feel like Robin is a stranger to me. After little debate, she gets a nine. (Mainly because Baruch was pissed.)

The minute Brican takes Jasmine's place, he releases the tension. He picks up a knife and then a wooden block that we use for painting. He begins carving away at the block, telling us stories like what he does with Jasmine. He puts most of his focus into the wood, often stumbling over what he is saying.

I'm not paying attention to his words though. I focus on the wood. He is working as quickly as he can, skipping many key steps in carving a perfect figure. I cut him some slack though because he feels rushed. After Jasmine's aftermath, most of the others are not paying attention, though there are a few who still are.

As he finishes, he holds up the rushed mockingjay. It is easy to pick out the mistakes, but he did finish it in record timing. He throws it toward us, and Lee catches it. She gives it to me and I admire the smaller details. He carved the eyes and the wings are almost perfectly done. If I were to place it next to a mockingjay that is sitting calmly on a branch, I could probably tell the difference, but it would be a decent comparison.

For reasons I can't explain. I start laughing. I hear Baruch's quick approval for him to leave. They try to get me to calm down and stay quiet, but I just can't.

Because I know that if I stop laughing, I'll start crying.

**Meant to post it on Saturday, but I was out of town. Then I had to edit and yeah. No one really cares what I was doing, only that I finally updated. The next chapter is going to be pretty long because I pushing three different parts into one chapter. However this also means I probably won't update by the end of the week. So please bear with me. **

_What song did Katniss sing when Peeta first saw her (on the first day of school)?_

Max Alleyne: 19  
KatnissIsTheLove: 20  
FlitterCherub: 13  
amazingbliss24: 8  
Maximum Warrior-of the Games: 11  
Claratrix LeChantham: 14  
Hahukum Konn: 18  
spindleberried: 19  
Frenzied Warrior:24  
L. JSmithLover24: 4  
The Essence of Fire: 1  
Mosstail21: 3  
Peetniss4eva: 2  
teamawesome: 3  
ur1fan: 3  
Fragrance -Of-The-Paradox: 2  
FoalyWinsForever: 16  
Skybones: 16  
SimplySarcastic18: 3  
crescentorose22: 5

*Finz*


	12. The Interviews

The Interviews

It never fails. Almost as if it's some kind of bizarre tradition. Every year we have one problem or another with the reporter of the interviews. Last year he had a "wardrobe malfunction". The year before that he decided he wanted to quit (only to agree to come on an hour before the interviews started and after we scrambled the Capitol for some kind of reporter). This year, he died. A week before the Games started. Baruch said he would find another, but as always, he forgot.

"You have to help me Ariadne," he says pacing inside of my room. Wakes me at almost five in the morning for this. "None of the ones we interviewed were good enough."

"Isn't this your problem? After all why would you need help from someone you're bitter towards." He glares at me and I can't stop the smirk that graces my face.

"You honestly believe that girl."

"I see everything she sees." He looks almost as though he is ready to yell at me, but he is so desperate that he ignores the comment.

"You have to know a reporter that can fill in. At least for the day." I think about it for a moment, trying to remember very man and woman that I've met since coming to the Capitol. When I remember him, I feel stupid for not suggesting it before.

"I know someone, but he's not a reporter, just charismatic."

"I'm too desperate to care. Bring him in so we can have a quick interview." Because he woke me too damn early, I decide to mess with him a little.

"Why are you assuming that it's a boy. What if it's a girl?" His bloodshot orange eyes widen. For a second I wonder what his real eye color is.

"Ariadne, I didn't-"

"You're sexist aren't you. I knew there was a reason why there are more men than women Gamemakers." There are an equal number, actually, but he's too tired to realize this.

"You're misunderstanding-"

"I see how it is, Baruch. Well, why don't you ask Gavyn or Wayne to find you an interviewer then." He literally falls into the sofa chair and runs a hand through his hair.

"Ariadne, please don't play mind games with me. It is much too early and I am tired."

"And I'm not! Talk about being self centered."

"Cut it out! Before I fire you."

The threat was so empty, I can't help the laughter that easily escapes my lips. He glares at me, but he's too drowsy to let it stick and eventually he begins laughing too. We are drunk with somnolence and for a while, it feels good. However, like any high, it eventually subsides and the truth of the matter settles in. It is five o'clock and I have to run around the Capitol in search of an interviewer. Lucky me.

"I'm going to sleep," I announce.

"But Ariadne-"

"He is asleep and I am not going to charge into his house and demand he interview for a job this early in the morning. I'm not as cruel as some people." I smile at his expression and continue. "Besides you're too crabby to be up this early. Take a nap. You know you're not going to get much sleep once the Games start anyway."

"We should really get it done now." His actions betray his words however, because he puts no fight as I gently push on his shoulder to lie down.

"Sleep. I'll find Caesar in the morning."

"It is morning," he slurs and seconds later he is asleep.

I slide back into bed, but no surprise, I can't sleep. With all of my might, I can't get myself to take the extra step toward slumber and eventually, I settle to reading _Lord of the Flies_ again. I haven't touched my father's book and I don't plan on it any time soon.

Seemly out of no where, I hear a knock on my door and I rush to answer it. To my greatest surprise, I see Theseus, with his blonde hair mussed and clothes thrown on as if he was in a rush to leave.

"What's going on?" I ask.

"Wanted to talk. I figured we wouldn't have much of that once the Games started." I smile at him and pull him into a crushing hug. I miss the warmth he used to bring just from his hugs alone. Our father didn't give us hugs and Mom was never affectionate due to her abuse as a child. Theseus became my only warmth.

"You seem sad," he says as he buries his head into my shoulder.

"I've had my moments." We laugh a little. He lifts his head and narrows his eyes at Baruch's sleeping figure. "Don't ask."

"I'm sure I'll find out sooner or later."

"Preferably later."

"You want to walk then. It would be better than being eavesdropped by the Head Gamemaker." I nod my approval and we go outside. The streets are completely barren, as would be expected at this hour. If there are lurkers, I am not afraid. My knife, as always, is tucked safely in my jacket pocket.

"It seems like forever since we walked together like this," he says softly.

"I know what you mean. Everything seems so peaceful right now."

"The calm before the storm most likely." For a long while, we don't talk, and I think it's better this way. Neither of us can open our mouths without an unintentional insult or comment coming out. This quiet and general understanding of each other is much better than any comfort his words would give me.

"Arthur asked to give his regards," Theseus says, penetrating the quiet. Ah Arthur. Theseus's best friend and my biggest crush growing up. Like everyone else in District 2, I haven't seen him in seven plus years, but unlike the others, I still talk to him over the phone. I guess first loves die a little hard.

"Did he now?"

"He said something about the painting he was working on. That when he was done with it, he wants you to put it on your wall here to remember him by." Arthur's artistic abilities are not to be trifled with, always having a steady hand.

"As long as he signs his name at the bottom like a professional." We laugh a little and the same silence as before takes over.

"Who do you think will win?" he says softly. If anyone else were to say the statement, I would accuse them of making small talk, but I can hear the curiosity behind his words. Plus we normally avoid all topics of the Games unless he brings them up.

"Everyone is saying Celer, and frankly, I agree a little. He has the brute force and all, but I don't know. There are too many subtleties to add together. Like Jasmine and Smith. They are both gifted in different ways and can go far and... I just don't know. Not this year anyway."

"I want Smith to win." I look at him in surprise.

"Really? Why?"

"I know I have an obligation for District 2 and all, but what can I say. I have to admire the ones who volunteer for reasons other than the fame and money they get. Not to mention he's only twelve. I hope he brings home the gold."

"Yes, big brother, because you can really take home the silver." He shoves me to the side and we share a chuckle.

"You knew what I meant," he tries to shoot back with the poorest looking anger on his face. It makes me laugh harder, a genuine laugh that can light up the darkest of places.

"I needed that," I tell him softly.

"I'm glad I helped give it to you."

We pause in the middle of the barren street and hold each other. We don't say anything, simply enjoying the touch of the other. Our breathing is synchronized, and there is peace between us. A peace that hasn't been with us for nearly twenty years.

"What happened back then?" he asks softly. "With Dad and Mom and everything. Why did everything happen the way that it did?"

That is the same question I was wondering, the one that will never have an answer.

* * *

I had fancied Caesar Flickerman ever since I met him when I was a child. His parents ran a candy store near the President's Mansion and it was the only place my father would let me go by myself. He was friendly enough and was always charismatic to whoever he spoke to. His hair was blond back then and his eyes were a natural violet color. Although he wasn't necessarily handsome, his humor and charisma made up for the fact.

I look upon my friend now and I see a different man, though charismatic and lively all the same. His blond hair is all but gone from his head, having been replaced with vibrant blue hair dye. His face that was always layered with scars and such was now caked with white makeup that made him look more like a ghost than a human. He is incredibly tall, though I am not sure whether this is Capitol induced or simply genetic. The only natural thing about him that I know of are his pure violet eyes that have yet to lose the lively spark I had saw the first time I met him.

"Ariadne," he say with a smile. "I was starting to wonder if you still remembered me." We hug for a while and I can't keep the smile from my face.

"It's been a while," I say simply.

"Now that is an understatement, my dear." We laugh. "How are you? I have to say you are definitely more beautiful than how I remembered?" I know he is lying because there are deep bruises under my eyes and stress wrinkles about my face, but this is why I know he will be perfect for the job. He can turn something bad into something good, and he knows how to manipulate the easy going Capitol citizens his way. Hell, that's how he keeps selling his father's candy all these years.

"Don't trying playing with me Caesar," I say with the smile still plastered on my face. "I have a job offer for you, if you'll take it." He looks around the nearly empty store with a raised eyebrow.

"You know I would hate to leave this place, but why don't you tell me the job anyway." I narrow my eyes at him playfully.

"We need an interviewer for the Games this year. Kelvin died last week and we're pretty desperate." He smiles, his flashy white teeth sparkling in the reflection of the sun.

"You, desperate? We can't have that now can we." Th relief that comes over me is indescribable.

"It's temporary, so you don't have to worry about this next year. I promise."

* * *

Caesar is interviewed by Baruch, though he is so desperate that he practically gave him the job the minute he stepped through the doors. I wasn't allowed in his interview, seeing as Baruch thought that my comments would be from our friendship instead my professional viewpoint. I don't mind, seeing as they are always rather boring anyway.

I wait with Robin inside of the room in which we watched the reapings. The balcony that we view the interviews from is on the floor and most of the Gamemakers meet here before going to our seats. Mainly because the food is brought here.

Robin and I speak little to each other as numerous amounts of Avoxes walk in and out of the room to get it ready for the Gamemakers' arrival. I look at every one of them, hoping to see Rhys if only for a moment. I haven't seen him lately, and I miss his presence. Spending time with Theseus is one thing, but Rhys has always held a more secure and supporting air about him. To my disappointment, he doesn't show up.

"He was sent to the District 5 floor," Robin says quietly. I shoot a glance in her direction.

"How do you know?"

"Baruch thought it would be good for me to deliver the tokens this year. I didn't think I would see anyone, but there he was, cleaning one of the windows." She picks up her purse and searches through it for a little bit. "He wanted me to give this to you."

In her outstretched hand is a white envelope like the one he gave me before. My name is written in blue ink across the front. I let a ghost smile fall upon my face as I take the letter from her hand.

_Ariadne,_

_My deepest apologies in not taking the time to come see you, though with everything you have been doing, I'm sure you don't miss me that much. I am sorry to say that I was reassigned to the Training Center this year instead of the Magic Building. I wish I could have changed it, but there is nothing that I can do. Again, I am incredibly sorry._

_However, I do want to see you. Perhaps after the Hunger Games, when everyone is celebrating the end. It would be fairly simple to sneak away, don't you think. I'm sure you already know where to meet. _

_I thought it would be best to tell you this now. There are rumors going around the Avoxes, ones that have scared us in a way I would have never thought possible. Something evil is lurking around the Capitol and it's heading toward the President. Rumor has it, it's after one of the Gamemakers too. We aren't sure which one it is, but your name has popped up in between the passing of papers. Be careful. And watch your back._

_With love,  
Rhys_

No surprise that someone is after me, and I would bet all of my money that it has something to do with Snow. I am very touched that Rhys would try to warn me. It does scare me a little that Snow seems to have spread around his plots and that there are other people who could be after me. I have no true worry though. I can identify many different poisons and I know antidotes for a few too. Yet another one of "Daddy's trainings".

I pocket the letter and give my thanks to Robin. She gives me a cold look, but wipes it off her face after a few seconds. I know where she stands, and she knows where I stand. There is nothing we can do about it.

The others file in one-by-one, Wayne being the first and Lady Grey being the last. We have small talk and gather around the buffet table. We speak nothing of the Games or the interviews, only what is going on else where. It is a great distraction considering what has been happening to me.

Eventually we are told that the interviews are about to start and we settle in our seats. I sit down with Lee on my left and Robin on my right. Wayne, Baruch, and Gavyn sit in front of me, speaking of random battle plans for the Games. I pull out one of the wood blocks that my mother gave me and the knife I have on me at all times and begin chopping away at the wood. I already started making its shape so it should be easy to finish.

"What are you doing?" Marit asks from Robin's right side.

"You remember that stress reliever thing I was telling you about during the reapings?" I wait for her to nod. "Well this one is mine."

I turn my attention back to the wood, not bothering to explain further. Robin fills her in.

"She does it every year. Her mother is a carver back in District 2 and she taught Ariadne. You see that clover she's wearing; her mother made that. I'm not sure what it is, but she takes comfort in carving." There is more, but I'm sure Robin doesn't want to tell her.

When Caesar bounces on the stage, the crowd is mainly surprised. We have kept Kelvin's death hidden from most people, and I expected their surprise. Still, Caesar doesn't let their lack of applause get him down. He begins speaking immediately, joking about the Chariots this year and his past occupation. He really gets them with that. After only a few minutes, I know he has won over the crowd.

"So then, let's get this show on the road! Flare Heartforth, come on down!"

She goes to the hot seat with the detached demeanor she has had throughout the entire time I've seen her. Her stylist has dressed her in a modest, long, black, silk dress and her make-up is done lightly. Her long fingers are folded into her lap and she looked very pristine.

"Now Flare, I have heard from a little birdie that you are a very mature young lady." She nods, her mouth glued closed. "So from this mature point of view, I have to ask, what do you think of the Capitol?" I hope he knows what he's doing with this because it is never a smart thing to ask a tribute what they think of the Capitol.

"Well, there are so many interesting things about the Capitol," she says, her voice laced in a sarcasm that makes me smile. I just know that her mentor told her to lie her ass off.

Caesar goes on telling the crowd of an old friend of his who used to visit him from District 2. He tells us how this person had thought that the candy was the best thing here. Then he gives the crowd a wink, making them laugh almost hysterically. I know he's referring to me and I have never said that, but I don't mind him making up a story to make her look good.

He decides that it would be best to turn the conversation elsewhere so he asks her if she was afraid of the other tributes. She gives a mischievous smirk and I just know that she is going to say something sarcastic.

"Why should I be afraid of them?" I nearly cut my finger when I hear her say this. I glance down at my hand to make sure there is no blood then continue carving.

Caesar responds with a joke that doesn't really stick in my brain, but it was funny, apparently, because most of the Gamemakers and the crowd below begins laughing. He says some more and continues to joke with Flare. It's interesting to see him interact with someone very closed off, but he does a very good job making almost everything that she says memorable.

The little bell rings and Flare takes her seat. When Argyros takes her place, I pay little attention. He tries to come across as a tough and ruthless tribute, but he can't pull it off, especially whenever he says or does something, I think of how he cried after his reaping.

Maeve does fairly well, putting up the act of a sexy woman and Caesar responds well with her. Caesar even makes Celer look decent who refused to answer most of his questions and kept a cold face throughout the entire thing. It was Caesar's side comments and jokes that make the crowd still at ease despite the obvious tension up there.

I am almost finished with my first carving (a round lipstick case, fairly easy to make), when I start paying attention to District 4. Jenna is the "all-around good girl", her stylist even going so far as to make her look like a little doll. Caesar enjoys speaking with her, often asking questions to only bring out her good nature.

"Now there must have been something bad that you have done. Tell me there is."

"Well..." She looks shyly to the floor then smiles. "I hate people touching my hair and my stylist loves fussing over me. I have said a few things to him that I probably shouldn't have." The crowd takes her words and turn them into appeal for her and Caesar doesn't try holding back the obvious over surprised expression on his face.

Vaughn doesn't take on a certain angle, instead speaks of his desire for safety. Caesar has fun with him, too, lightly teasing him for being in the Games when he was so safe. Vaughn tells him a fun story of his crew when he got mad at a man who forgot to tie the anchor to the mass before they left and was almost deserted in the ocean. He told us how he nearly ringed the man's neck. He and Caesar crack jokes at each other until his time is up.

Halsey walks to the chair with a sort of skip to her step. Flickerman notes the loveliness of her attire giving praises to her stylist for the bead work. Halsey doesn't seem to care for it, but politely talks about it with him for a little bit. When Caesar notes her uncomfortable air, he changes the subject.

"I am certain that you aren't as good as your fellow tribute, so tell me about yourself." This sets off a long sentence of words that I can hardly understand, but Caesar does her justice by repeating what she says.

Apparently, she is something of a prankster. She goes into detail of a prank that she pulled on her mentor in the train and how he has been out to get her ever since. The camera flashes to him who is beat red, whether from embarrassment or anger is unclear. She then changes the topic to a friend of hers who wanted revenge a girl in their class and that they went to the trouble to sneak into her house and pour a bucket of water on her while taking away most of her clothes.

She did fairly well in her interview, I think.

I finish off my carving by etching the male insignia into the side and I admire my handwork for a while. I have Brican's mockingjay from the last day of training in my other pocket, though I'm not sure why. It reminds me of home in a way, and at this point, I need the extra reminder. The lipstick needs to be sanded down, but I'm sure it will be alright for the time being. I pull out another block, also cut to the appropriate size for my next carving. I managed to do this after the second day of training, cutting every block so that it will be easier for me to carve during the Games.

I hardly notice when Smith goes for his turn, but my ears perk up when I hear the question that I have been wondering for the entire duration of the Games. "So, Smith, I'm dying to know why a young lad like yourself would volunteer for someone."

The crowd is completely hushed and no one dares to speak. Smith seems nervous and Caesar tries to calm him down. Nonetheless, he answers the question.

"Aron was my brother, Carter's, best friend. Carter didn't like spending time with me, but Aron did. He's the one who taught me how to play darts and stuff. There were some times when he would take me to the bar and we would spend hours throwing the darts and just laughing. And, I don't know, I guess seeing him up there, so weak and vulnerable when he was always strong, made me realize that he didn't deserve that. If he were to die in the Games it would be because he wasn't smart or good enough, not because he was sick."

Smith's words are heavy in the air and a few are even crying. The Capitol citizens sympathize with him for a while, admiring his courage. I hope he lives. I hope he wins.

I ignore the next tribute and listen to Nicholas. Like Jenna, he is the good boy, simply wanting to return home to his family and this girl he has a crush on. The Capitol loves that, swooning as he describes her beauty to them. He also mentions how he wants to make a better life for his parents and many old fashioned citizens like that as well.

My next carving is a bracelet, which is actually very difficult to carve. I decide to make it a simple pearl one like the bracelet that Maeve had only, not poisonous. I start making notches along the O-shaped block and put all of my attention into the wood.

Cressida speaks fondly of her family. She tells the crowd of the reapings a few years back and how happy her brother was when he wasn't chosen. She tells us in great detail about the way he looked until I was sure I could see him in front of me. Caesar gets her to talk about her limp, in which she tells us that she got it from a sledding accident and her foot was crushed. Yet another sympathy vote for sponsors.

As always, when Gamil takes his turn the girls in the crowd nearly screamed. He takes that time to model for them throwing kisses into the crowd. They completely eat it up and some of the tributes can't stop staring at his handsome face. Cressida's smile is broad and warm as she looks at him. I was right about their alliance, but is it something a little more? I doubt it. He's just a handsome kid.

Caesar pretends to faint when Gamil looks at him and that gives him quite a few points too. The crowd is wild by the time he sits down and it takes a while for them to calm down.

Gamil talks to Caesar as if they were old friends, showing off his witty personality and smart intellect. Most of the people here don't care much about that, only his good looks. He knows how to play that too, often times tossing looks into the crowd that sends them into a new set of screams.

"Gamil, I have to ask, do you have a girlfriend?"

He smiles broadly and looks straight into the camera. "Not yet, but I'm looking."

Ceres seems overwhelmed when she goes up next. She is very shy and it makes her look cute, especially since she is thirteen. Caesar is very gentle with her, asking her simple questions to get her out of her shell and responding properly to whatever she says. If her angle was to make herself look weak and fragile, she definitely succeeded at it. She has a soft smile that makes the crowd smile as well. I didn't think much of her in training, but she has seemed to have grown on me.

I see Baruch tense up when Jasmine takes her turn. His original plan was to give her a high score so that she is a target for most of the Careers, but it seemed to have turned on him. She may be a target, but now she is a marvel as well. When Caesar asks what she did, she simply says, "I was honest with them." When the cameras jump to us, I am the only one laughing.

She closes herself off for most of her interview. She answers him with simple answers and doesn't bother saying much else. It is when he asks her about her little brothers and sisters is when she finally says something worthwhile. "There are many things I can say about my siblings, but nothing I can say will truly do them justice." By that statement alone, she became the big sister of the 37th Hunger Games.

Finally Brican goes to the stage. It is clearly obvious that he has an overall optimistic view of everything, which I think is strange considering his abuse. My mom once said that when you are attacked, body and soul, you have no choice but to enjoy the little things around you. She has always been strong, which is why I think she is so weak now.

Brican tells us of his little sister, Messa-Rose, and how she wanted to run away from home one time. He jokes about how she only packed enough clothes for a day. His three minutes seem to go by quickly and before we realize it, the interviews are over.

* * *

As tradition, there is a huge party for all of the high society Capitol citizens at the President's Mansion. I go only because I have to. I don't bother dressing up, instead going in a nice shirt and a pair of jeans. I stick out like a sore thumb and get dirty looks for most of the night, but they don't dare throw me out. Word has gotten around about what I did to Snow and while the story is greatly dramatized, they still are afraid of me. Not that I would ever hit someone without being provoked first. I am quick to anger, but slow to violence.

Robin and I walk around the ballroom, noting the people who run to the bathroom every for seconds to puke what they've just eaten. I don't know how they can even enjoy the food while doing that.

"This is ridiculous," I mutter under my breath.

"We have an obligation as Gamemakers."

"There is no such thing as an obligation. Everything has a choice."

"Not everything."

"Most things." I glance at her, who is still shaken up from what happened yesterday.

"Are you alright?" I ask her. She pulls on a fake smile and nods.

"I'm fine. Don't worry about me."

"Robin..."

"I'll be alright. I'm just thinking."

"About what?" She is quiet for a long time, glancing at the other guests at the party.

"Why I became a Gamemaker. I've been thinking about it a lot you know, and the more I think about it, the sicker it makes me." I understand that feeling. It's how I get whenever I think of my father.

"We should leave soon." She nods at my words and runs off to socialize with Marit and her friends.

Unable to stand the dry air in the room, I go outside and take in the beautiful night. This will be the last time I see the sky before I go to the Games, and I want to remember as much as I can. When I was little, my mother would take me on walks in the streets and point out the different constellations in the sky. She told me that every star in the sky is really just a person's soul after they die and the purer your soul is, the brighter you shine. Theseus and I would make up stories for the stars, and I know he still does this sometimes (if anything it's to hold onto the last bit of innocence he has left).

I hear yelling somewhere. My curiosity gets the best of me and I search through the twisting hallways to find the source. I am surprised to find Lee speaking to someone. The other person doesn't talk and has their back to me. In the dim lighting I can only see their messy auburn hair. It looks kind of familiar...

"What were you think?" she snaps. "Why would you do something like that to her? Are you an idiot? There is no way I'm going to let you weasel your way into her heart." Who is she talking about?

The other person uses large hand gestures and doesn't say anything. I narrow my eyes at this person, trying to remember where I've seen them.

And then I remember.

"I don't care about your excuses, Rhys! You know the penalties and you are still doing it. Did you even tell her why you're like this? Did you-"

"Tell who?" I say walking toward them. Lee is surprised by my presence, but from the look Rhys gives me when he turns around, I can tell he knew that I was there.

"It's nothing," she says casting a cold glare at Rhys.

"What's going on Lee? How do you know him?"

"I can ask you the same question," she snaps. I'm taken back by her venom, and it takes me a minute to try to reorganize my thoughts.

"Did you guys have a thing or something, because I swear to you that we're just friends?" She rolls her eyes at me.

"No, Ariadne, we-" A sharp voice that I loath cuts in the middle of Lee's sentence.

"Well, well, what's going on here?" I turn around and see Snow's brown hair pulled back so that we can see the gray around his scalp. Lee seems frightened by him and although she seems to be mad at me, I can't help feeling angry at Snow for making her feel that way.

"Stay out of it Snow," I snap. He ignores me and turns toward Rhys.

"You, Avox, go back to the gutters where you belong." Rhys rushes away and Lee goes in the other direction, knowing that she had no business being with Snow. "Ariadne, I did not think that you would go so low as to speak to an Avox."

"I think you are mistaken. I was speaking to Avonlea." He raises an eyebrow at me, his large lips curving into a smirk.

"You know, I don't think that's what was going on."

"Are you trying to get a free facial or something?" I tell him bitterly. He laughs at my words, showing me the little lump on his nose from when I punched him.

"I think you should watch yourself," he says venomously.

"I'm not afraid of you." My hands curl into tight balls at my side, ready to act at a moment's notice.

"You should be."

"Did you forget what I told you?"

"Oh no, I didn't forget. It was rather cute actually-" My fist grows tighter. "-but don't you worry. President Hale will not be part of that equation for much longer." This shakes me a little and I try my best to respond without a quiver in my voice.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Now Ariadne, I thought you were smarter than that. I'm sure you know what it means." Why is he telling me this? Does he think I will give him his congratulations for trying to kill the president.

"What makes you think I won't go and tell someone what you're planning on doing?"

"You can, but it will be very futile." While I may not understand the whole of it, I do know what he means. They can't always protect him and I'm sure he knows someone who can get the job done without getting his fingers dirty. I think of the letter Rhys gave me. He's after me, too.

"You can't kill me as easily as you can kill him. I know poisons better than you do."

"Who said anything about poison." He fixes his suit and gives me an eerie smile. "Goodnight, Ariadne. I'm sure we are in for a very interesting year."

**A.N. 10 pages! Can you believe it! The longest chapter I've ever written! Wow, took me long enough too. I'm sorry. I actually don't like this very much. I think I just tried to smash in as much as I could into this one chapter and it ruined the core of it. Whatever, tell me I'm wrong, but I think I could have done better. **

**Besides that, the next one will be pretty short and it will cover the Bloodbath. I am so glad that I finished all that pre-Game crap. If I write another one of these, I am skipping all of that. Never again. **

**Fun Question (I realize that the last one was hard, so this one is very easy): **_According to Finnick, how did President Snow keep his power over the years?_

Max Alleyne: 21  
KatnissIsTheLove: 21  
FlitterCherub: 14  
amazingbliss24: 8  
Maximum Warrior-of the Games: 11  
Claratrix LeChantham: 14  
Hahukum Konn: 19  
spindleberried: 21  
Frenzied Warrior:25  
L. JSmithLover24: 4  
The Essence of Fire: 1  
Mosstail21: 3  
Peetniss4eva: 2  
teamawesome: 3  
ur1fan: 3  
Fragrance -Of-The-Paradox: 2  
FoalyWinsForever: 17  
Skybones: 19  
SimplySarcastic18: 3  
crescentorose22: 7

*Finz*


	13. The Bloodbath

The Bloodbath

Am I heartless? I like to think that I'm not, but how am I supposed to know. Can there even truly be a heartless person, because everyone feels something for someone in their lives. You have to love something or someone in order to hate another. It is a question as such that keeps me up at night, twisting in my bedsheets, trying to wrap my mind around the idea. I am not heartless, but I am cruel. You have to be, to be a Gamemaker.

I think of the Careers every time I ask myself this. Are they heartless? Most of them are, though it is not their fault. They didn't know that what they are doing is bad, it was just the way they were raised (like the Capitol citizens). So who is to blame? Their parents? No, because someone must have taught them.

And this continues for a while until I think of the very beginning, when Panem was just a baby and was being nurtured to its full potential. That must have been when it happened. They got all of the heartless people, threw them into a district and said, "You will be in charge of keeping peace and doing anything necessary to do so. You will be the Peacekeepers." Then you have to ask yourselves, who taught them to be heartless. It is a never ending trend. It's times like these where you realize that blame is something very petty and useless in such a complex world.

Complexity is something I am used to, something I thrive for because simplicity, no matter how hard one may try, is unreachable. There is no such thing as a simple thought because that single thought can grow into something bigger and it leads to another thought and this trail continues for a while. A perfect example of this is what has just ran through my mind. Hell, I went from "Am I heartless?" to complexity.

I rub my forehead, trying to gather everything that I can. The official Games center will be my home for the next week or so and I want to make sure I don't forget anything. I already gathered a few pairs of clothes, my toothbrush, my wood blocks, and _Lord of the Flies_ (and my knife, but that goes without saying). I pick up the picture of my family and hold it close. The book of my notes on the tributes is already on my desk, ready for use. So why does it feel like I'm missing something?

I give a sideways glance to the book my father gave me. I looked through it last night. It is just a book of short stories from the time before Panem. I read the first one and it is pretty interesting to see how it was before. I know I shouldn't bring it with me, but I grab it anyway and stuff it in my bag. With the picture still in hand, I snatch Brican's bird off of my table and go to the elevator to the top floor.

Before I even reach the top, I know that it is hectic there. It always is. I know that there is approximately ten minutes until the tributes surface at my arena and until then, everyone is going to be running around, making sure everything is in its place.

I have an eerie calmness about me when I step into the open room. The back wall that would normally hold the window, is now a large television that covers the entire wall. Half of it is a map of the arena with small dots to represent each tribute and the other half has ten separate screens in which each member of the video crew control. Baruch is the one who says which screen is live or not.

He sits in a large sofa chair in the very middle, the video crew on his right and Controls on his left. We all have smaller versions of what is shown on the big screen embedded into our desktops. We as Controls can't control what we see, but most of the time the video crew splits themselves up to watch each tribute. I also bring my own pair of headphones so I can listen to the different videos. Along with the tablets, we each choose a personal chair to sit in. Mine is a comfortable long lounge chair. On the adjacent wall is a buffet table that is always full and two doors, one leading to the resting room and another that goes to the bathroom. There are no windows or clocks around us so that we don't confuse the arena time and actual time.

I go to my desk that is in the second row in the very middle, the place I have sat ever since the beginning. In the back two rows there are three workplaces, while the front has four. Gavyn sits on my left and Lee on my right. Things have been tense between Lee and me since yesterday, but I think she is still on my side. Marit and Robin are on the video crew, sitting in the same row as myself.

I toss my bag under my desk and glance through my notebook for a few seconds. When Lee takes her place, she shows none of the emotions that she held last night, in fact she is perfectly at ease. It irks me a little, but I am honestly glad that she's not mad at me.

"Alright," Baruch says, "everyone gather around. We have three minutes until live." We stand and circle around his chair. He hands each of us the first of many hypersomnia pills. They are used for people who sleep too much so that they stay awake longer. For us, it keeps us from falling asleep during the Games.

"To the 37th Hunger Games," he says lifting the pill above his head.

"To the Games," we chorus together, mimicking his actions. We take the pill in unison, most of us swallowing it dry, but there are a few who have a glass of water in hand. We disperse almost immediately after.

We hold our breaths until the twenty-four little red dots appear on the screen, circling around the very center of our arena. The video crew is quick to find different angles and Baruch quickly shouts out which ones to go live and when.

Meanwhile, I admire the beautiful arena I created. It is in the shape of a large circle, the very center being a desert. Yes, we started them in a desert. Baruch had much opposition on this idea, claiming that they wouldn't be able to survive. I had to change the size of it to a measly two-mile radius. The Cornucopia is in the middle, making it more difficult for the Careers. After the desert, there is approximately three miles of grass lands, except for one small sliver in which it is only one mile. The rest is mainly forests and large, thick mountains. The last ten miles don't have any mountains and, instead, are very thick forests in which Wayne hid many different traps. One of my favorite places in the arena is the waterfall that falls from the very top of the mountain to the bottom, feeding into a lake. There is a hidden cave behind the waterfall and a small pool towards the top. I am hoping that someone finds it.

There is something else too, a surprise that Wayne and I argued hours over.

I'm sure the tributes see the woods, even though it is far. I see many of them worried over the desert and searching for the water or the forests. The only source of water out there is a small oasis that Baruch insisted I put for the Careers. I catch sight of the multiple packs and equipment scattered along the Cornucopia. Inside the large gold horn are boxes in which we put the equipment in.

We hold our breath until the gong sounds.

Baruch waits three seconds, counting too slow for our likes. We know what is going to happen. We know that they won't even get anywhere when it happens.

When he says zero, Wayne acts so quickly, I don't even have time to stop him.

All eyes are glued to the screen.

Then the Cornucopia explodes.

It was Wayne's idea but he wanted to blow up all of the supplies. It was my idea to place the real Cornucopia on the oasis, one mile east of where they stand. The real one is not as extravagant as the one we blew up, in fact I put most of it underground and hidden behind a rock formation so that it is harder to find. Only the mouth is visible and that is because you can see some of the supplies spill out of it.

The Gamemakers cheer at the explosion, giving Wayne and me pats on the back. Then we get back to business.

We get three people from the explosion alone, the most surprising of which is Maeve, who ran straight to the Cornucopia the minute the gong went off. Sypher and Rooney from District 12 are the other two who are killed. The debris kill one other (District 8 boy) and injured almost everyone.

Smith grabs Cressida's arm and runs in the direction of the sliver of grassland, exactly north of the fake Cornucopia. Gamil, seeing them run, is quick to catch up, grabbing the two packs in front of him first. Halsey runs southeast with Ceres not too far behind, both with small backpacks in hand.

Flare disappears running west while Nicholas goes east, straight toward the oasis. One other run northeast, the District 5 boy, I think.

Brican grabs a sleeping bag and a square of plastic (both of which are in front of him) before running. He catches sight of Jasmine, running northwest and follows her, though I am pretty sure she doesn't want his presence. She has a knife in hand. It is small and not very sharp, but I'm sure it will get the job done. Not only that but she will probably be able to survive off of the plants alone.

Even though the weapons are technically gone from their position, it doesn't stop Celer, who finds a knife in one of the packs and send it flying toward the tributes stupid enough to look for something good near the ruins. Seeing Celer actually fight is completely horrifying. He jumps from victim to victim quickly, too quickly if you ask me. Jenna is quick to follow his action, though she is not as wild as her ally. Vaughn hangs back a little, grabbing a shortsword near the ruins of the Cornucopia and holds it weakly. Celer goes to him, snatches the sword from his hand, throwing the knife at his feet, and continues to fight.

While the remaining Careers are busy with that, I watch Nicholas, curious as to if he'll see the Cornucopia. He runs pretty fast and very consistently to the oasis, practically jumping into the little pond of water. He grabs a handful of the water and drinks it welcomingly. He didn't grab anything from the fake Cornucopia. He stands and is about to leave when he sees the huge boulder in which the Cornucopia is hidden behind. He goes to it and see a tent.

He laughs crazily, realizing that he just hit the jackpot. He goes to the hole and takes the tent. He picks up a sac of supplies that contains a liter of water, dried fruit, and beef jerky. It is huge and he fits as much food and water he can in there. He finds another bag and fills that with supplies too. This time he puts water filter tablets, rope for snares, and medicine. He is about to leave when he sees a large broadsword, lying perfectly. He smiles at it and attaches it to his hip. He runs a few minutes after the canons stop, with the tent, two bags of supplies, and sword in hand. The supplies slow him down, but it doesn't stop his endurance. He doesn't stop running until he is hidden in the grassland.

I focus my attention back to the Careers. Eleven dead bodies are scattered along the ruins of the fake Cornucopia and the hovercraft is quick to take them away. Vaughn stumbles back a little as Jenna tries to keep him upright. Celer admires his handwork for a moment before turning toward the last of his allies. Argyros, I note, was killed.

"Let's go find the others," Celer mumbles quickly. Jenna seems confused-she probably didn't even hear what he said-, but Vaughn does and reacts accordingly.

"Are you insane? You killed most of the people here and you want to keep going?" Celer looks at him with dead eyes.

"Isn't that what the Hunger Games are for?" he says simply.

"We need to find camp or something before it gets dark. I thought I saw a tree that way." Vaughn points to the direction of the oasis. "We can see if there is at least water there."

"We should hunt," Celer repeats.

"And what happens when we get tired or hungry? Do you expect us to eat each other?" He flinches at his own words, obviously appalled of the idea of eating Celer or Jenna.

"We should find shelter and get ourselves together," Jenna says standing in between the two of them. "The Gamemakers had to have put some kind of supplies somewhere. We should go to where Vaughn saw the tree and keep going from there." Celer reluctantly agreed and attached the shortsword to his hip.

"That was a great beginning," Baruch says to us. "Don't you think?" Eleven people were dead, four of which are from us. We've done better, though the explosion definitely was a plus.

I glance toward Robin to make she is alright. Both District 5 tributes are alive, so I figure that she should be better than most years. A few tears have rolled down her cheek, but other than that, she is fine. At least, she appears to be fine. I've been having problems reading her lately, and that scares me more than anything. Before I was always there for her because I knew when I had to, but now, it's almost as if I can't even see her.

We are speechless as we watch the other tributes disappear into the grasslands one-by-one.

"And then there was thirteen."

**A.N. Wow, two in one week! Granted this one is really short, but the last one was long so it evens itself out. Grand slam right there, especially if I get out a third. Woo! I think I'm just excited to finally get to the Games. **

**In terms of Sponsorship, I'll give you what I will probably put in the next chapter in terms of the tributes. It'll be vague so I won't get too much away. **

**Remember the point system is:**

**6 points for small items, water bottles, some food, ect...  
8 points for small weapons, pain medication, a prepared dish, small packs ect...  
12 points for expensive items, serious injury medication, ect...**

**Just tell me what you intend to send and I'll classify it for you. I figure I'll raise the prices after three or two tributes die. **

**Next Time...**

The Careers go hunting,  
Tension grows with an alliance,  
The tributes try to find their footing, some failing miserably,  
And one will get a surprise...

**Fun Question:** _At the end of __Mockingjay__, where is Katniss's mother?_

Max Alleyne: 23  
KatnissIsTheLove: 23  
FlitterCherub: 15  
amazingbliss24: 8  
Maximum Warrior-of the Games: 13  
Claratrix LeChantham: 14  
Hahukum Konn: 21  
spindleberried: 23  
Frenzied Warrior:26  
L. JSmithLover24: 4  
The Essence of Fire: 1  
Mosstail21: 3  
Peetniss4eva: 2  
teamawesome: 3  
ur1fan: 3  
Fragrance -Of-The-Paradox: 2  
FoalyWinsForever: 19  
Skybones: 20  
SimplySarcastic18: 3  
crescentorose22: 9

*Finz*


	14. Finding Their Footing

**I posted a Gamemakers' Guide to the Gamemakers as the first chapter. If you need a clarification, simply go to that chapter. **

Finding Their Footing

"Where in the hell is my sword!" Celer cries as they search through the supplies at the oasis. I can't stop the broad grin on my face as I see him searching desperately for the broadsword that Nicholas now has. I do, however, feel bad for Jenna and Vaughn who look at him with wide, unsure eyes.

"Maybe they just didn't put one in the Cornucopia this year," Jenna says trying to weave herself a net.

"They always put a sword in the Games! It's the most basic weapon." He kicks a canteen of water, causing it to bust open and spill out on the floor. Vaughn glares at the empty bottle and then at Celer.

"You have a sword already, dumb ass," he snaps.

"This isn't a sword! It's practically a damn knife." I have to agree with him on that one. The shortsword is half the size of my thigh, able to do damage, but it's not the same as having a sword.

Vaughn ignores him and continues practicing with the crossbow. It was intended for Maeve, but seeing as she is dead and it is the closest thing he has to a spear gun, he took it gratefully. His aim is a little off at first, but he gets used to the feel of it after a while.

"Someone must have taken it," Celer reasons. "I noticed that some of the other supplies isn't here either, and when I find whoever did this..." He pulls out the sword and slashes a can of food in half. "They'll be sorry."

"Damn it Celer, if you keep treating our supplies like that then we won't last long enough to find this person!" Vaughn exclaims.

I settle back in my chair and change the channel in which I am listening to. I find the one with Halsey and listen closely.

After the Cornucopia, both of her arms had two degree burns. They don't seem too serious, but she winces every so often as her arms gaze against her body. She slows her trot into a walk as she finally escapes the tall grass and into the foundation of the forests. She smiles at the sight and finally stops to look through her pack. There is a bag of jerky, a bottle of iodine, a pack of dried fruit, an empty water skin, and a very small knife. It's hardly anything, but enough for her to survive for at least the first few days. She pulls the neon green pack over her shoulder and studies the sun. It is already beginning to lower itself right now, giving them a good five hours before sunset. She looks around, knowing that she has to find water. There is a small stream about three miles west of her location, but, of course, she doesn't know that.

She is about to go east when she hears something behind her. She clenches the knife from her pack a little too hard and jumps around, ready to face whoever is there.

"It's me, Halsey." She relaxes as Ceres comes through the grass.

"Geez, kid! I almost killed you." The little thirteen year old looks at the knife in Halsey's hand and laughs a little. She points to the orange bag in Ceres's hand with her knife.

"What'd you get?" She opens the bag and shows her what's inside. She has an empty plastic jug, a ball of rope, more jerky, a small loaf of bread, a thin blanket that reflect body heat, and sunglasses. The latter was meant for the people who would be staying in the desert.

"You got a hell of a lot more than me," Halsey says showing her what was in hers.

They are silent for a long time, awkwardly glancing at each other. "So, we're going to do this? We're really going to be allies," Ceres asks in a very small voice.

Halsey opens her mouth to say something when a silver parachute falls from the sky. It lands a few feet away and the pair go to see what's inside. Ceres smiles as she sees a blowgun about the size of Celer's shortsword. Next to it is a small plastic bag with twelve darts.

"You have sponsors!" Halsey exclaims. "It's official. You're my ally."

I laugh at her before switching channels. They were walking toward the little stream when I found the one I am looking for. Brican and Jasmine.

"Will you stay away from me!" she exclaims as the two of them walk through the forest. They're awfully close to where my waterfall sanctuary is and I hope they find it, or at least Jasmine does.

"Come on Jasmine, why won't you let me just stay with you at least. I can hunt and you can gather whatever plants you need." She stops abruptly and turns toward him, glaring.

"If I remember correctly you don't even know how to hunt. Your dad was a joiner." He shrugs a little.

"I can use knives," he says looking at the one in her hand. Her eyes follow his and she keeps her hard expression.

"You're going to need meat sometime. At least with me you have a chance of getting some." She somehow hardens her expression even more and turns on her heel to continue forward.

"I don't need the meat to survive." She walks away from him, but that doesn't stop him from giving one last plea.

"Well what if I said I need you." She stops turn back toward him. "Come on Jasmine. I'm from District 12. I can't do anything other than carve something out of wood or maybe pick up a chair. I need someone to help me out, someone who knows their plants." She looks down for a minute, calculating everything, the same expression I saw in the training gymnasium. The same expression I'm sure I get sometimes.

"No, Brican. I have too much on the line to take care of you. If you leave now, I won't kill you, but otherwise, well you know." With that she walks in the opposite direction, passing him in the process.

When she finally leaves his sight, he doesn't follow her. He doesn't want to force himself onto her, so he walks forward. Not too long later he finds the waterfall. He looks at it unsurely, not entirely sure what could be behind there. He presses a hand against the rock. He is about to pick up a...

"Alright everyone, attention on the Careers! They're going hunting!" I jump as I shoot a glare at Baruch. A few cameras focus on the Careers instead of the other tributes, including whoever was feeding me the information about Brican.

"Damn it, Baruch. I was on to something," I cry bitterly. He hardly gives me a sideways glance.

"I need your area of expertise where its needed." I know the underlying meaning of that. Take your ass out of the clouds and stick it where it matters. He doesn't care about the dramas of the other tributes. He wants violence just as much as any other Capitol citizen watching in their living rooms.

I bitterly watch what is going on from the big screen. Celer managed to find a knife set and pulled out the longest of the group. It is a little more than half of the size of his short sword and it is perfect for throwing. Jen made a net and found a spear in the pile of supplies. The strap from the crossbow slings around Vaughn's shoulder with a quiver of twenty-four bolts at his hip.

With that they head east, the same direction that Nicholas went at least two hours ago. I turn my attention back to my own screen looking for any video of him. Of course, with everyone focusing on the Careers, no one even bothers glancing at anyone else. I look at the map instead, noticing that he settled on a flat surface about a half a mile up the steep slope. It's very possible that he is the first of the Careers victims, but since I can't really see what he's doing, I can't be too sure.

By the time the three of them cross the grassland, the sun has already set and they each put on a pair of night vision glasses. After much debate, Vaughn is given the job of checking the mountain side then meet with Jenna and Celer later. Rather grudgingly, he walks up the slope, headed straight for Nicholas.

"Someone look for Nicholas!" I holler. Baruch shoots me a glare as the video crew glances in my direction. Then all eyes go to Baruch.

"Why Ariadne?" he asks unsurely. I'm sure he doesn't want me to upstage him.

"Vaughn is headed straight toward him! Can't you see?" And then all eyes go to map to make sure I am correct. Of course, I am.

"Lysander, find a video of Nicholas Jackson and air it immediately," Baruch says with an edge to his tone. I smugly smile and turn my attention back to the screen.

Nicholas has just organized through everything he has and seems to be nibbling on a piece of jerky. He also takes small sips from a water canteen he took while looking through the two bags to see if he grabbed a pair of glasses. He sits on top of the tent, telling me that he intends to continue on, probably until he finds a water source.

Vaughn practically sprints up the mountain, probably uncomfortable being alone in the big and scary arena. I might be too, considering all of the traps that Wayne put in there. They're just lucky that we haven't unleashed any of them yet, well if your don't count the Cornucopia.

When he sees someone, he clenches the crossbow at his side. His hand shakes a little as he takes a bolt in hand and notches it into the crossbow. He takes aim, ready to launch the arrow into Nicholas's head when he turns toward him, jumping to his feet and unsheathing his broadsword. It takes Nicholas a second to recognize the crooked nose and broad shoulders.

"Vaughn?" He keeps his sword up as he says this, but Vaughn slowly lowers his crossbow, recognizing Nicholas's voice.

"Don't think that just because you lowered your weapon that I won't attack," Nicholas says.

"I thought it was someone else, like the District 9 kid or something. I didn't think..." Vaughn takes a step closer, getting a better look at Nicholas's pile of supplies.

"So you're the one who took his sword," Vaughn says with a chuckle. "He's planning on murdering you because of it." Nicholas laughs nervously, and Vaughn is quick to join in. Still, he does not lower his sword.

"Where are the others? Celer, Jenna, Maeve-"

"Maeve's dead, and so is Argyros. It's just the three of us, and I'm not sure what will happen if Jen ever..." He trails off looking away. He takes the arrow out of the crossbow and places it back in its sheath.

"In the name of our training friendship (if that's what you want to call it), I'll let you go, but you shouldn't stop until you are sure you're safe. I was serious about Celer and I won't be able to let you go again, so take advantage." Vaughn seems a little unsure, as if he should just kill him now anyway so that he won't have to deal with him again. It would definitely be easier, but I don't think he would do that. From what I saw of the two, they seemed to be pretty close during training.

"Thanks Vaughn, I owe you." He nods a little then runs down the hill to catch up with Celer and Jenna. When he is out of site, Nicholas doesn't wait to gather his belongings and continue looking for a safer place to stay. In other words, as many yards away from the Careers as possible.

"Was anyone there?" Jenna asked when she spots him.

"If there was, don't you think you would have heard the canon," he said plainly. And with that they continued.

They go north from where Nicholas is, meaning they would completely skip Ceres and Halsey, who have found refuge in a tree (thank goodness Robin never stops looking after her district tributes) and Flare, who hasn't even appeared on the screen. I just know that she is hiding somewhere west (I make a mental note to check that out later). Assuming that the Careers stay on the path they are on now, they will pass the District 5 boy, Merton, just barely miss Cressida, Gamil, and Smith, who surprisingly covered a lot a ground (they seem to be going straight. I wonder it they are looking for water or is just wondering where the arena ends) and Jasmine, who found a small pond near a beautiful meadow that is covered with poisonous plants. But I'm sure she knows this already. This is assuming that they actually cover all of the ground and they stay along the edge of the grasslands and the forests. I have to add time due to the obvious stops they'll make to search the area.

My stomach growls loudly as I turn my attention to my carving. I've finished about five of them, this being my sixth. It is in the shape of a television remote, and I've even gone so far as to carve out the buttons too.

It's an on going trend with me that I don't really eat during the Hunger Games, more for my respect for the tributes than because of the memory of my father. I want to get up and get food, but every time I think about standing, I remember the cold nights in District 2 when my father wouldn't feed us. I remember the cold hunger that clawed at my stomach, teasing me, telling me that I wasn't strong enough to last. It takes strength to stop eating, more strength than it takes to use a weapon. Definitely takes more discipline than anything else I have ever done.

I put most of my focus into the carving until I hear the hollering of the other Gamemakers. Celer has found a victim.

"Make it good, Celer," Jenna says. "Make sure the Capitol gets a good show."

He has the District 5 boy, Merton, cowering against a tree. He sees the crossbow at Vaughn's side and knows immediately that he has no chance of escaping death. Robin looks at the screen in horror and before Celer can even lift up his sword, she dashes out of the room and into the resting area. Besides myself and maybe Marit, no one takes note of her departure.

Celer is on top of Merton teasing him with the knife, sharpened to the point that even the light grazes leave a mark on his skin. He takes no remorse or shame in the tortured expression on Merton's face, and I have no doubt that District 2 is cheering for the beastly tribute. If I was there, I know I would.

The Games are different in 2, something I never really noticed until I met Robin. We treat it as more of a sport, as if the people in the screen are actually actors and they aren't really dying. It is easy to think that, especially when we win most of the time. It's only when someone you love goes into the Games that you seem to understand it more, though even when I watched Theseus, it still seemed as though I was watching someone else. Someone who looked like Theseus, but wasn't really him. When he came home it seemed different, but for the longest time I was convinced that it was actually the actor that came back and the real one was hidden somewhere. But that small hope didn't last forever.

Celer digs the knife into his palms, the blood squirting in all directions. Merton cries out and I visibly flinch. For a second I wish I was home with my mother and Theseus, watching the television with the mind set of the other District 2 citizens. I'm not though, and this is real. (This shouldn't bother me like it does. I've seen tributes being tortured before, but maybe it's because he reminds me so much of my father. Almost as if he is the one torturing Merton and not Celer. _Damn it_, I think. _I have to stop comparing tributes_!)

Celer moves to his mouth, cutting into the corners of his mouth. He has a twisted look on his face as he continues his torture, going to his ear and cutting off the tips. His face is full of blood, as well as his arms. During all of this, Merton does not stop screaming. As a final torture, he stabs him in his stomach, then gets up and leaves.

"You're going to leave him there?" Vaughn says in disbelief.

"He'll die soon enough. Most likely of blood loss, or maybe if the Gamemakers feel bad for him, they'll send a beast to finish him off. I don't really care. It's not my problem any more." He leaves and after shooting a sympathetic look at Merton, Jenna follows.

Vaughn doesn't go, not until he is sure that they were far away. He didn't want to keep this poor boy in torture. He took a bolt and stabbed it straight into his heart. The canon fired almost instantly. Satisfied with putting him out of his torture, he cleans off the bolt by digging it into the ground then meets up with his allies.

Lee stands and knocks on the resting area, telling Robin that it's over and she can come back. She does so quietly, not looking at anyone, already knowing that Merton was dead. She looks so defeated as her shoulders slump forward and her eyes gaze lifelessly at the screen. She hates watching her district's tributes dying, and often times it is almost as if she is dying with them. Which begs the question once again, why is she here?

I try to see if I can find any footage on Flare, but as always, all eyes are on the Careers, even though they're not doing anything besides fighting with each other. They just passed the area where Gamil, Cressida, and Smith would be. They are too far up to be seen by them and I'm sure they aren't stupid enough to be sitting ducks under a tree.

And that leaves Jasmine. She is perched up in a tree, slowly trying to sleep (someone finally had the brains to look for the other tributes). She wakes up often, most of the time just because of the sound of the wind. She is scared shitless, which probably has something to do with her abuse. My mother can't go to sleep unless everything is closed, otherwise she'll say that she feels a breeze and she goes throughout the entire house in search of this cracked window. There always was something wrong with her though. My father gave it a name, but I forgot. It's common in the districts though. And there I go with the comparisons again.

After hours it seems, they finally reach the clearing in which Jasmine is staying in. Upon hearing the excess noise, she opens her eyes, looking around calmly, not moving her head in case she makes a sound.

"You think someone's here?" Jenna asks.

"We're going to look now, won't we," Celer mumbles.

"We should find some place to rest and come back later," Vaughn says.

"That's ridiculous," Celer says in his natural quiet tone. "Why on Earth should we go back?"

"We killed someone already and it's getting late."

"One person is nothing. Past years have killed many more on their first day, and I won't be going down in history as the Career who only killed one person."

"You forgot the bloodbath," Jenna adds.

"That doesn't count. They are brainless twits and these are actual tributes."

He chooses this moment to look up, and his eyes catch Jasmine, as bright as day. "Well it looks like my lucky day," he mutters. The other follow his line of vision and look up. She still doesn't move, probably in hopes of trying to get them to think that they aren't really seeing anything.

"How do you want to get her down?" Jenna asks.

"Too bad none of you useless asses are from District 7. Then we could cut the tree down," Celer says.

"You have matches?" Jenna counters. Vaughn pulls out the box and gives it to her. She tries to light a leaf first. When it finally catches, the fire spreads quickly catching onto the neighboring trees as well. Jasmine has no choice but to jump out and run, and the Careers are on her tail. Not only because they're trying to get her, but also because the fire is catching up to them.

"Not one of your smartest plans, Jenna," Vaughn pants.

Celer begins to catch up to Jasmine. She is incredibly fast, but so is he. Eventually, he catches some ground on her. _This is the end_, I think. _She's going to die._

I didn't even see his dot on the map, so when Brican's head appears from behind my waterfall fortress, I am the first who gasps. He calls to her, pointing to the sharp rocks that would be simple for Jasmine to climb. She just has to get there before Celer catches her. Seeing that she just might get away, he lunges toward her, his hand just barely missing her arm. He falls miserably to the floor and she climbs up the rock wall.

"Are you alright? Please tell me you're okay," Brican says as he helps her into the small space under the waterfall.

"I'm fine Brican, I'm fine," she pants. She looks around the concave area, noting the perfectness of my cave.

"How'd you find this?" Jasmine asks.

"Not important." He grins to himself. "Are you considering be my ally now, or do you have to kill me." She glares at him, but he can't stop laughing.

* * *

The effects of the pill begin to dawn on us as I note how the moon is beginning to go down too. I took a look at the tributes still awake. This is actually only Gamil, Cressida, and Smith, who I dubbed the Trio. They hadn't found a water source yet and were getting ready to go to sleep. The forest fire killed everything behind them, and they were lucky enough to evade the fire (though Cressida did get caught a little). I lean back in my chair and I glance at Robin.

Her gaze is fixed on the screen, focused in a way that I have never seen before. Her eyes are narrowed, thumbs tucked under her chin with her hands linked, save for her index fingers which stood erect against her lips. Her elbows lean against the end of the desk and her long slender legs are crossed weakly.

"Oh!" she exclaims jumping to her feet. We stare at her, but none of us have enough energy to say something. "Do you have money on you, Ariadne?"

"What for?" I ask. She ignores my question and turns to Lee.

"Do you, Lee?" She pulls out a few bills and holds them out for Robin to take. "Gavyn?" He copies Lee's actions. "A few more. Come on, Ariadne. I know you have money."

I have twenty dollars on me, but I refuse to tell her so until she tells me what it's for.

"I'll tell you later," she pleads, "but I need it now." I almost refuse her again, but then I catch her eyes flying to the big screen. Her expression is worried toward Cressida, only I don't know why. Despite my better judgment, I take out ten dollars and give it to her.

Her face lights up instantly as she calls to one of the Avoxes. Just my luck, Rhys goes to her. "Can you run fast?" He nods. "Good. Take this note with this money to..." She leans into his ear and whispers the rest of her statement. When she pulls away, Rhys nods wildly, catches my eyes, and rushes away.

"You going to tell us what that was for?" I ask as she sits down. Again, she pays no attention to my question, instead staring intensely at the big screen.

A couple minutes later and a little silver parachute falls from the sky. Robin smiles at it as it falls in front of Cressida.

"What's that?" Smith asks as he walks to her. Gamil follows him, a small match in hand. She picks up the parachute to find a beautifully decorated cupcake. It has to be from Cayman's bakery and I understand why it cost so much to send to her. Someone zooms into the icing and we see the writing, "Happy 18th B-Day".

"Robin," Lee says, "how did you-"

"I did the research," she replies softly.

"It's your birthday?" Gamil asks.

"Yeah, I guess. I kind of lost track of the days after I was reaped."

Lee and I glance at each other before turning our gaze to Robin. Her eyes are bright with joyous tears and I can honestly say that this is the only time I have seen her perfectly and incandescently happy.

Gamil and Smith begin to sing the traditional happy birthday song to her. Robin is quick to join in, singing in a perfect soprano voice. Lee and I follow in immediately after her and soon enough so is everyone else, even Wayne and Baruch. We sing pleasantly, joyously, sadly to the tribute that may not live to see nineteen.

**A.N. I need to stop putting so many parts in this. Next one will be shorter. I swear.**

**If anyone was disturbed or something like that over what Celer did to poor little Merton, then I have to say, my first draft was much more detailed. Like sadistically detailed. I changed it for the ones who don't like that kind of stuff. Unless all of you like reading about Celer torturing a defenseless tribute, in which case, I'll make sure to make it more detailed.**

**Out of pure curiosity, has anyone written or started reading a SYOT story that was reported and taken off the sight. I think I covered my own tracks pretty well, but I was wondering if something like that actually happened to anyone.**

**Next time...**  
More tension with the tributes,  
Game plans come out,  
And the first tribute(s) die...

**The last one is not going to be easy, but it had to happen sometime.**

**Fun Question:** _What is Finnick's last name?_

Max Alleyne: 25  
KatnissIsTheLove: 15  
FlitterCherub: 17  
amazingbliss24: 8  
Maximum Warrior-of the Games: 14  
Claratrix LeChantham: 14  
Hahukum Konn: 22  
spindleberried: 25  
Frenzied Warrior:27  
L. JSmithLover24: 4  
The Essence of Fire: 1  
Mosstail21: 3  
Peetniss4eva: 2  
teamawesome: 3  
ur1fan: 3  
Fragrance -Of-The-Paradox: 2  
FoalyWinsForever: 20  
Skybones: 20  
SimplySarcastic18: 3  
crescentorose22: 11  
Turq8: 7

*Finz*


	15. Dreams and Worries

Dreams and Worries

_I am a child, only I'm not. I thought I was, but I look the same that I do now. It doesn't matter though because the simple thrill of being able to run through the streets of District 2 with my friends is enough to make me a child again. We race through the streets and I notice the ropes tied to our necks, arms, and legs. I don't think it's strange, not yet any way._

_Slowly we all stop running and begin to walk, the ropes disappearing as we do so. Except, mine do not disappear like the others do. Mine get thicker, tighter, almost as if they are controlling me. I try to fight it, but the harder I fight, the stronger the ropes get. I look up, expecting to see the ropes disappear into the sky, but I am surprised to see my father, Baruch, and Snow fighting for the ropes. My father has them all, pulling him up and down, controlling my every will._

_Arthur appears in front of me, then, holding a hand out for me to take. I see his handsome violet-like eyes and I reach out for him. He pulls me away from my restraints and they dissolve into thin air. He leads me to the meadow we would play in as children. He is just as I remember, young, happy, courageous, and full of untouched adventure. _

_His eyes suddenly change into the familiar hazel and green ones. It's Rhys._

"_What's wrong Ariadne?" he says. I gasp at the loveliness of his voice, how he melodious it is. I drown in his words as he begins to sing an old District 12 folk song. I don't know how it goes, but I've heard Ilisabeth sing it a few times. _

"_It's beautiful," I say to him. He beams at me, his gaze five times brighter than normal. His hand goes to my cheek and caresses it lovingly. I smile warmly at him and lean into his touch._

_Then he changes. His bright eyes harden and his face slowly transforms into that of a monster. Into Celer and my father. He pounces on top of me, his touches no longer gentle. His hand go to my mouth as if he was trying to take off my tongue. As if he wanted me to be an Avox too. _

_I fight him, but for reasons I can't fathom, I cannot hurt him. It is almost as if I was going to let him hurt me, and for a minute, I think that I deserve it. I deserve to become an Avox._

_The minute the thought comes to me, he stops and jumps back. He stares at me with wide eyes and runs away, muttering a small "Sorry."_

_I run after him, not wanting to leave on this note. Just when I think I am catching up to him, my surroundings change into a thick jungle. The heat is excruciating and I already feel the sweat on my face. I've been here before, or at least I think I have. The savage feel comes about me as I relish in the jungle. Lord of the Flies comes to mind as walk through the thick vines. _

_I see the tributes as I continue and they follow behind me. Merton, Celer, Nicholas, Jenna, Flare, Jasmine, Ceres, Halsey... every tribute who has ever walked into one of my arenas is with me. They walk beside me with broad smiles and innocent expressions. _

_I stop abruptly and turn around, the others following my example. Swarms of hooded figures make their way toward me, laughing hysterically for no reason. They hold torches in their hands and as they walk toward us, the jungle burns. _

_I catch a few faces behind the cloaks before I begin to run. I see Snow, Wayne, Baruch, Gavyn, Caesar, and Lady Grey. They each have mirroring smiles of sadistic pleasure and joy._

_We rush away from them, my heart beating rapidly. I hear the cries of tributes as they are taken in by the flames. From the corners of my eye, I can see Maeve, tripping over herself and falling into a rose bush, her eyes being impaled and blood falling from them. _

_One-by-one, I can see the most current tributes being killed. Jenna is the first, then Ceres, and it keeps going until Celer, Jasmine, Smith, and one other that I can't see very well are left. Jasmine trips Celer and he is taken as well. Then it's the four of us._

_I see a beach ahead of us and I tell the others so. I begin to sprint so that I can get to safety, but the three begin to slow down. I stop and turn back telling them to keep running; that they would be safe here. But they don't listen to me. I catch Jasmine's sad eyes as we stare at each other. The others are long gone._

"_It's the way things are," she says just as she is taken by the fire as well. _

_Nothing stops me as I run to the beach. I trip over the mounds of white sand. Unable to pick myself up fast enough, I crawl as fast as humanly possible until I see a pair of shoes before me. Very slowly, I look up and see Robin._

"_Robin! Oh my gosh you have to help me! They're burning it down and they're killing it. They're killing Panem!" She doesn't respond and simply holds her hand out for me to take._

_Before I can even accept her offer of help, a long silver blade jumps out from her chest. She chokes a little, then opens her mouth to an "o" as if she is trying to scream. No sound comes out and blood spills from the corners of her normally pink lips. In seconds, I am covered in blood, her blood._

_And when she falls to the floor like a heap of potatoes, I can see Wayne laughing at her deadened form as he reaches to take his sword from Robin's heart._

I jump up with a jolt, vaguely aware of my screaming. It was a dream. Robin is still alive. Everything is okay. I place a hand against my heart, feeling the rapid thumps against my clammy hand.

It was then that I remembered where I was. I was given a few hours to sleep in the resting area before beginning again. I sat in one of the futons just below a small television. We weren't actually allowed to watch anything, but a few of the newer Gamemakers find it hard to sleep after being apart of the Games. The television is simply something to blindly play until they fall asleep. I had used it plenty of times my first year, but I haven't taken notice of it since.

"Are you okay?" I nearly scream her voice. Robin is beside me, placing a comforting hand on my shoulder. She repeated her question.

"I'm fine," I reply shakily.

"You know I can't read people as well as you, but I have enough experience to know when someone is scared shitless." I laugh a little. "Was it your dream?"

"I don't want to talk about it, Robin." She nods and takes my hand in hers. The hand that I was going to take before Wayne stabbed her. I can almost see the blood on her nails. I shake the image from my mind and look at my dear friend.

"You know, it's not normal when you are comforting me during the Hunger Games." She shrugs, ignoring my sarcastic comment.

"You're different somehow. I can't place it, but you're not the same as the past years."

"Why do you say that?"

"You still have Brican's mockingjay and I looked at your notebook. You compared tributes to your family. You always said you'd never do that."

"Maybe I just miss my family."

"If that's the case then maybe you should go home before you do something you regret." From her tone alone I know that she knows this feeling of regret that she is referring to.

I take her comment seriously, but she means that I should leave at that very moment. Walk out the elevators and not look back. I can't do that, even if I wanted to. I had never quit anything in my entire life and walking out of the Games midway would just be ridiculous. Not only that but I still remember our deal. When we go home, we stay home, and I'm just not ready to leave the Games just yet. I'm still needed here.

"Whatever's wrong with me will disappear by the time the Games are over. I promise." It was a promise that I could not keep, and she knew that.

* * *

When I settle back in my seat, I instantly look for Flare, who has been on my mind since falling asleep last night. She some how escaped my eyes and now I need to find her. According to the map, she has stayed in the same vicinity as before. I try to remember if she brought anything from the Cornucopia, but for the life of me, I simply can't remember.

I look at the video images of the video crew, and I am not surprised when I don't see one of Flare. For some bizarre reason, they are still focused on the Careers, even though they are sleeping soundly. In fact, I think everyone is sleeping, except for the little red dot that represents Flare. I almost scream at the incompetence of the video crew, but instead turn to Marit.

"Hey," I say to her. She looks surprised for a second, but manages to relax herself enough to look at me without her big doe eyes. "Can you search for Flare Heartforth for me?" She glances in Baruch's direction and then back to me. I know he won't care if I'm only looking at a tribute, but Marit doesn't.

"It's okay," I reassure her. "He won't say anything." She nods a little then searches through all the different camera angles until she finds the one with the District 1 girl.

She is leaning over a small pond, filling a small canteen. She has a bottle of iodine in the other hand, ready to place it inside of the water. She chose a very isolated part of the arena to go to, and I figure it wouldn't be long before Baruch orders her out. I just hope she leaves before that. There is a leather bag swung over her shoulder, no doubt from the Cornucopia, and a knife at her feet.

A little hare hops out from the underbrush a few feet away. It stands on its hind legs and sniffs the air, searching for trouble. When Flare sees it, she sets her canteen down and picks up the knife as slowly as possible. The hare doesn't suspect a thing. Then before I even realize what's happening, the knife is in the hare's stomach, and it is on its side. Dead. We underestimated her knife skills.

She smiles then picks up the carcass by its ears. She cleans off the knife in the grass then gathers her things to leave.

With my wonder over Flare fulfilled, I decided to check on the Trio. Thankfully, someone has being looking for them, and I am pleased to find them awake and about. Smith has a knife in hand as he starts to cut small pieces of jerky. They still haven't found water and I figure that that is their first priority.

Gamil stirs as Cressida goes to him and gently shakes him awake. "Come on, buddy," she says. "We need to find water before we all end up dying." He laughs a little, but doesn't open his eyes.

"I'm tired," he says plainly. Cressida scowls, then pulls the blanket off of him. He is chilled with the morning air and his eyes shoot open.

"Geez! Should have at least warned me." She laughs as he sits himself up. She throws the blanket back at him as she goes to Smith to get her portion of the jerky.

"You'll be able to hunt, won't you?" she asks the twelve year old. "After we find water I mean." Smith nods a little unsurely and sheaths the knife.

"Where are we going to find water?" There is no water around them actually. They're best bet is climbing up the mountain and finding refuge in a cave. There is a small waterfall inside the deep tunnels as well as an easier way to the thicker forests. It could be trouble when we plan to get them together though.

When they finally begin to head up the mountain, the sun has already peaked above the top. They try to go slowly, but eventually they start quickening their pace, eager to find water. A half of a mile later and they find my first cave. The Trio goes inside to rest from the sun, and eventually begin to look inside. I decide to leave them be, knowing that they'll find the waterfall eventually.

I lean back and rest my eyes a little. Robin was right when she said something is wrong with me. I just don't know what it is. I try to tell myself that I'm simply paranoid about Snow trying to kill me, but I know that it has to be something more. Snow's threat on my life scares me a little, but nothing close enough to change my attitude. It could be my family. After all, a lot of the tributes remind me of my life in District 2. Or maybe it's Rhys. Ever since I over heard Lee talking to him, I can't help but thinking he's hiding something from me. Something that I really don't want to hear, but obviously have to. But what really scares me is Robin, and that much is evident from my dream. I have a strange feeling that her sanity is running on a thread and if it breaks, it will be my fault. Robin is my best friend and I would go above and beyond to make sure she's safe. Maybe that's the problem. I'm worrying too much about Robin when I should focus on myself for a while.

In an attempt to get my mind else where, I search for tributes. Ironically enough, I watch Ceres and Halsey. They are at the stream they found yesterday filling their water pouches and such. They rationed their food, but it is very little.

"Can you hunt Ceres?" Halsey asks.

"Kind of, not really. I can use my blow dart for most things."

"There's only twelve darts. Besides, what if you need that for a tribute."

"I can manage. Why?" The District 5 girl avoids the question.

"We're going to need more food sometime."

Ceres narrows her eyes at her ally. "What are you thinking Halsey? I mean, if I have to, I can hunt. Back home, they used to send me out to gather the sheep and if something bothered them, I had to take it down. Of course, I had help back then, but I'm sure I can do it now, too."

"With what? My knife that's the size of my pinky? What good's that going to do?" Ceres glances at the knife, unsure what Halsey meant.

"Where are you going with this?"

"The Careers hunt for most of the day. So who's watching their camp?"

She shrugs. "No one I guess. Are you trying to say that we should steal their supplies?" Halsey smiles.

"Exactly. I checked last night and there's only three of them left. That means that they would all be gone. During that time we can go to their camp and take what we need. At least once to get what we can. Then we can find some where far away to stay. It'll work Ceres."

"We don't even know where they're staying or if they have supplies. I mean the Gamemakers blew up the Cornucopia."

"The Gamemakers love their Careers. They must have put something for them."

"An oasis you mean. I thought I saw a tree when we were running away, but I can't be too sure."

"Perfect, we'll check today and then we'll try it tomorrow." Ceres looks unsure, but nods eventually. Halsey is gambling right here, and I can't help but feeling as though she is leading one of them to their death.

**A.N. Yeah, I know I said I was going to kill off the first tributes today, but I decided against it since it would have taken another two or three pages to write and I promised to keep this short. So there. And even after your tribute dies, I hope you keep reading the story.**

**Plus I wrote a pretty short oneshot about how the Hunger Games came to be. Please read it and tell me what you think. As always, it is from an unconventional point of view.**

**Next time...**  
The first tribute(s) dies,  
And there is a drastic change in allies...

**Fun Question (In the name of the season, I will give everyone two points if you get this right):** _What is the name of the plant that killed Foxface?_

**Happy Christmas! Happy Holidays, and all that jazz.**

Max Alleyne: 27  
KatnissIsTheLove: 17  
FlitterCherub: 19  
amazingbliss24: 8  
Maximum Warrior-of the Games: 15  
Claratrix LeChantham: 14  
Hahukum Konn: 23  
spindleberried: 27  
Frenzied Warrior:29  
L. JSmithLover24: 4  
The Essence of Fire: 1  
Mosstail21: 3  
Peetniss4eva: 2  
teamawesome: 3  
ur1fan: 3  
Fragrance -Of-The-Paradox: 3  
FoalyWinsForever: 22  
Skybones: 20  
SimplySarcastic18: 4  
crescentorose22: 11  
Turq8: 9  
FantabulousOboeLily: 3  
SallyLynn: 3

*Finz*


	16. Dead Kids Walking

Dead Kids Walking

If I ever have kids, I am never going to teach them how to train for the Games. Not only because of my traumatizing experiences both as a child and as a Gamemaker, but because then they would be something like Celer or Jenna. Both are arguing over who knows what, while Vaughn looks very lost, trying to find a way into the conversation to stop them.

It was two days since the original bloodbath and Celer was getting horribly irritated. He wanted to kill someone, only he couldn't track anyone down long enough to do it. Whoever his teacher was better try doing another occupation. Tracking was the first thing I learned, and one of the easiest I think. But he knows nothing about it, staring at the different trails of tributes (specifically Nicholas's who left behind the tent and whatever was on the floor when he left, a few food packs and twine and such).

"Where did he go?" Celer asked yesterday.

"Why are you assuming that it's a he?" Vaughn joked. The bigger boy seemed unamused and simply repeated his question.

"It's hard to tell," Jenna said looking at the tracks Nicholas left. "I think he went left." He didn't go left. He went north (or up in her words).

"I think none of us can track and we should move on," Vaughn said. And another fight erupted from that. Very amusing to watch if I say so myself.

Today, I think they found the Trio's trail, but the fire burned away most of what was left to track. A skilled tracker would know where they went easy, but the incompetence in this Career pack means that they know close to nothing.

"I am tired and hungry!" exclaims Jenna. "I'm going back to camp."

"Jen," Vaughn starts, "we'll need you for later."

"I'm sure you can pick up the extra slack. You haven't killed anyone yet anyway."

"Yeah," Celer agrees.

"That's because you guys have taken them all," he replies nervously. He obviously didn't tell them what he did to Merton. "I'll get the next one, I swear!"

"You better," he counters. Jenna rolls her eyes a little then turns away from them.

"I'm going back to camp. I think you boys can handle yourself for a little bit."

I roughly carve away at the wood getting all of my frustrations out before I switch views. Everything in my body is tense and I think it's more because of the pills than anything else. I haven't slept since my nightmare and even with the pills, the lack of sleep takes a toll on you. It's a horrible feeling because my eyes are tired, but my mind continues to race.

"Will you stop before you cut off your finger," Gavyn barks at me. I turn to glare at him. Easy for him to say. He got to sleep last night.

"I am not so incompetent with a knife as to cut my finger. Thank you very much."

"It's annoying Ariadne." I raise an eyebrow at him lazily.

"So is the tapping you always do with your pen, but I don't say anything."

"Yeah you do." The sleep deprivation must be affecting my comebacks now. I open my mouth to respond, but all that comes out is a yawn. Gavyn lets out a soft chuckle then turns his attention back to the big screen. Eventually my own eyes follow suit.

To my greatest surprise, the screen isn't focused on the Careers. Instead, they're on Halsey and Ceres who have spent most of yesterday scouting the desert for the Career base. After finding it, Halsey came up with a pretty flawless plan to get the food and go. It was a simple enough ruse and I have no doubt that they're going to be successful.

However, Baruch has a strange look on his face, as if he is going to do something incredibly insane and possibly life changing. (Who am I kidding, everything we do in the Games is life changing.) He got that look last year when he opened up the crevice to swallow up the kids who took refuge in a nearly flawless meadow. Judging by his choice in video, he is selecting Ceres and Halsey as his next victim.

The two girls go into the camp and with their bags, which they emptied and hid the contents at their camp. Ceres is still unsure, but Halsey has a crazed expression on her face, pleased with the value of each thing she puts in her sack.

For reasons unexplained my eyes wonder, just for a moment, to the map. I stare at it, not really processing where anyone is, that is except for one little dot that is moving across the grassland and to the desert. I stare at it for minutes, maybe even hours before it clicks into my deadened brain. Jenna was going back to the camp. And Halsey and Ceres are still there.

Jenna's decision to go to the oasis seems to be the icing on the cake for Baruch. The smile on his face is sadistically wide and full of intense pleasure. It's the type of smile I would expect a rapist to have just before they go for their prey.

"Ariadne," he says, "get ready muttation 237." I raise an eyebrow at him, though my hands are already working on their own accord. "I'll leave you to playing with them."

My hand grazes over the blue button that will unleash the muttations. I may be hungry and fatigued but I still know how to time the muttations for the best possibly second. Jenna needs to be closer. She needs to be close enough to see the girls, but not actually kill them. When the moment comes, my index finger twitches and the scorpions jump out from the sand.

It was another one of Wayne's masterpieces. They are all five feet long and their stingers are seven. The poison is not only in their stingers, but their legs as well and it gives the person a slow and miserable death. He told me that it slows the heart first and swells up the throat so it is difficult to breathe, but not enough for them to suffocate. After that it sends a burning sensation to where you were stung and it slowly spreads to your entire body. He said that it feels as though there is a fire on you, only you can't put it out. This torture lasts for hours, sometimes even days depending on how many times you were stung, until your heart finally slows to a point that you have a cardiac arrest. There is no antidote for this torture and if any of the girls are stung, their only hope is to be put out of their misery.

The five creatures attack the girl closest to them which, unfortunately, was Jenna. She didn't even see them coming. All five pounced on top of her and stung her in different places. I hope she doesn't have to suffer long. Her scream echoes through the desert and Ceres and Halsey see the scorpions just as they finish off with Jenna.

Now it is a race.

The girls run as fast as they can through the oasis, and they separate as they cross the desert. They are both pretty fast, Ceres especially, but the scorpions are too. Wayne designed them so that they take down even the fastest of tributes. At full speed it can best even the train.

They run at full speed. I can see the fear on their faces as they try desperately to push themselves harder, to go past what is normal for them and press untouched strength. Halsey isn't as fast as Ceres is and she begins to fall behind.

I make the mistake of turning to look at Robin. Her eyes are wide and she knows that Halsey's days are numbered. Just before I turn back she looks at me. Our eyes meet and I see every emotion she has ever felt for a tribute. She begs me to spare her, even though her lips never move. Robin is at her end and having Halsey die now, from a scorpion venom that will slowly kill her will drive her insane.

Unconsciously, my hand moves the direction the scorpions go. It was a subtle movement and you could hardly tell that they change targets from Halsey to another. To one that I didn't even think about as I looked at Robin. Ceres.

A cold regret consumes me as the scorpions quicken to catch up to their new prey. I can change their path again, it would only take a moment, but I know I can't. There is no way that I can do that without being questioned by Baruch or one of the others. Before I would have loved doing this to them and they can't know that this year is different. That I am changing.

So I watch in horror as the first insect injects Ceres.

"Take them down," Baruch says. I look at him, surprised. "I want the audience to see. That way it will give the others more time." The thought of seeing innocent little Ceres in such torture sickens me, but I do as Baruch says.

The scorpions dig their way back into the sand and Halsey changes direction so that she is now running to Ceres. They were only a quarter of a mile away from the grassland. She might have made it if I didn't change the scorpions.

"Ceres!" she cries. "Ceres!"

She doesn't respond because the venom already cut off her throat and it is harder for her to breath. She gasps desperately for more air, twisting and turning in the boiling sand. Halsey is at her side in a moment.

"Hold on Ceres. We gotta get you out of the desert." She lifts the girl up to her feet and takes her other bag over her shoulder. They cross the remaining miles slowly and eventually they end up at the sight Nicholas was at only a few days ago.

"Ceres? Ceres can you speak?" She opens her mouth to try and say something, but nothing comes out. Her throat is too swollen. Tears spill from her eyes as she stares up at Halsey. The District 5 girl looks desperately through the pack and pulls out a bottle of water. She tries to make Ceres drink, but little of it makes it in her body.

"What should I do?" Halsey cried. "What should I do." She looks up into the sky as if hoping to see a silver parachute fly down. "Hey! Sponsors out there! Send her medicine! She's only thirteen for bloody's sake! Save her!"

A cold wind is all that she gets in return. Even if every citizen in the Capitol sent her a dollar, the mentors must know that there is no antidote. That anything they send will only prolong her torture. She has no hope of surviving.

Eventually Halsey understands this as well. She looks at Ceres hopelessly and begins search through the bag. For something that can help her.

"I'm so sorry, Ceres. This is all my fault. I should've listened to you. You could have kept us alive with the dart gun. I should've..." She trails off and stares at Ceres's dying form. She throws her head back to the bags and holds the knife.

"There's no hope is there." Even though she isn't looking, Ceres nods her head.

"I hope you'll forgive me. I didn't think this would happen." Halsey goes to Ceres's side and placed the small blade against her throat. "You shouldn't suffer. No matter what the Capitol or the Gamemakers say. You don't deserve it. You've been good I bet, and took care of your family. You don't deserve to die painfully."

Ceres's gray eyes were full of tears as Halsey slit her throat. It was hardly a second later that the cannon went off. Halsey held onto her hand until the hovercraft came to pick up the body.

* * *

Celer and Vaughn didn't return to the oasis until the sun was beginning to set. With yet another day of failure on their part, Celer was incredibly irritable. His gaze was fixed on the sand even after Vaughn screams Jenna's name upon seeing her on the floor.

The boys went to her side as she gasps for air in a similar fashion as Ceres. She got a greater dose of the venom than Ceres did and I figure that her time for death is coming up. Vaughn kneels beside her, trying to see if there is something he can do. Like Halsey before him, he knows that her fate is set.

Before he even has a chance to think about killing her, her eyes roll back and her cannon fires as well. I can see his worried expression as he stares at her dead body. He stayed a Career because of Jenna, but now that she's gone, he doesn't know what to do.

By the time the hovercraft comes to take Jenna's body, Vaughn seems to have made up his mind.

"I'll take the first watch," he says to Celer. "I'll wake you up when the moon is at its peak." The larger boy nods and goes to eat before settling down in his sleeping bag to rest.

Celer has many reasons to be wary of Vaughn at this point. While the Career alliance is mostly strong until the end, Vaughn never seemed to be apart of it. He was always on the fence and now was his time to choose. Not only that but he could easily kill him now and get it over with.

Hours pass and Celer manages to fall into a deep slumber. Vaughn stares at him for a long time, clenching Jenna's net in one hand and the cross bow in the other. All twenty of the bolts are at his hip. He could survive off of the fish if he wanted to run. I know that there are multiple fishing spots in the pond near Nicholas's old spot. He'll live.

As the moon reached its peak, he looked down at Celer, the crossbow loaded and ready. It would only take a moment for him to go for the kill. But he turns away instead and runs in the opposite direction, straight for Nicholas's campsite.

**A.N. This is very tribute centered since I figured you guys had enough of Ariadne's drama for a bit. **

**A moment of silence for Ceres Kirby and Jenna Perry.**

**Next time...**  
What happened to Vaughn and the other tributes,  
And introducing the second muttation...

**Fun Question:** _Did Peeta's family make it out of the District 12 bombings?_

Max Alleyne: 30  
KatnissIsTheLove: 20  
FlitterCherub: 22  
amazingbliss24: 8  
Maximum Warrior-of the Games: 16  
Claratrix LeChantham: 14  
Hahukum Konn: 26  
spindleberried: 36  
Frenzied Warrior:24  
L. JSmithLover24: 4  
The Essence of Fire: 1  
Mosstail21: 3  
Peetniss4eva: 2  
teamawesome: 3  
ur1fan: 3  
Fragrance -Of-The-Paradox: 5  
FoalyWinsForever: 22  
Skybones: 20  
SimplySarcastic18: 7  
crescentorose22: 14  
Turq8: 12  
FantabulousOboeLily: 3  
SallyLynn: 3  
Percabethlover112: 7

*Finz*


	17. Calm Before the Storm

Calm Before the Storm

Twelve hours of dreamless sleep later and I am awakened by the strangest scream I have ever heard. It scares me for a minute because I expect it to be Robin or Lee, but after a few more seconds I know that it isn't them. Which leaves me with the question: who is it?

I slowly drag my feet across the carpet and to the door to the Game room. My body aches from unknown troubles and despite the sleep I had, my eyes have never felt heavier.

I see Lady Grey huddled in the corner staring at something on the screen. A few others are at her side trying to comfort her, but by Wayne's twisted expression I know that something happened in the arena. Lee, upon seeing my confused expression, is quick to set me straight.

"Wayne brought out one of your mutts for a while and was leading a false trail with animal blood." I glance in Lady Grey's way once again. "Oh she wasn't looking at the big screen, so when she saw what he was doing she freaked out."

"Was it really that bad?" I ask.

"Well Robin left a while ago and there's a line to the bathroom if that's any indication." I nod a little and glance around the room, taking in all of the empty seats.

Then I see Rhys, sitting back against the wall. He has a red vest over his white button up shirt that isn't buttoned on the very top. His hair is pushed to the side and I have a clear view of his star green eyes.

"You should stay away from him," Lee says as she catches my gaze. I turn to look at her.

"You never did tell me what you were talking about that night." She glares at Rhys and he turns away from us, fearing Lee's eyes.

"You'll find out when it's time." I narrow my eyes at her.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"As of now, absolutely nothing."

"Avonlea." She gives me a soft glare, with a mischievous smile. I'm taken back by her expression and I want to lash out at her, but my mind is still deadened by the half sleep I got. Instead, I take my spot beside her and check up on the tributes.

The Trio successfully found the water some time ago and have been living inside of the mountain for the days past. I find Smith outside, climbing up the mountain while looking for any type of food source. There aren't many types of wildlife on that side of the mountain and he would be better off going to the thick forests on the other side. Of course, the animals are more vicious, but with his skill, he should be alright.

Out of the corner of my eye, I see the hovercraft fly toward him and drop a silver parachute. He looks up at it with wide eyes, anxious to see if it's for him or one of his allies. When it lands, he runs to the parachute and finds a small hatchet. He looks confused and realizes that it's not for him. He picks it up and rushes back to the cave.

Gamil and Cressida lean against each other, saying nothing and doing little else. I can see that there is something between them, whether it is true or not is a little unsure. When you're young, you tend to lean on the first shoulder you can find and it can blind you from the truth of your relationship. When Theseus left, an old friend of mine, Crispus, went to my house every day to watch the Games with me. It was hard and he was always there for me when I needed him. But then he disappeared. I'm not too sure what happened to him, but I didn't miss him like I thought I did. It was a puppy love. I'm not sure if this is the case with Gamil and Cressida, but I guess I won't know until later.

"Cressida! Gamil! Someone sent us something!" Smith says running to them. They both look at him, making no move to get up. Only when he shows them the small ax is when Gamil stands.

"A hatchet. I knew my good looks would get me something good." He takes it from Smith and admires the weapon.

"How do you know it's for you?" Cressida says, though I'm sure she is aware that it is most likely for him.

"This was my tool back in 9. I could kill anything that moved with this baby." He swings it back and forth, relishing in the feel of the blade. He probably can't cut down a tree with it, but he can get some good meat if he can throw it decently.

Cressida says something sarcastic at him, in which Smith gives a small laugh, but I don't pay much attention. I glance around the map searching for the next choice of tributes.

Flare is in the same vicinity as before, and I figure she is doing perfectly well by herself. At the rate she's going, I wouldn't be surprised if she made it into the top 8.

I spy Vaughn's dot, which is coming awfully close to another, one that I haven't really taken much notice to since the first day. Nicholas. I search the camera angles quickly and listen in.

Nicholas sees him first, jumping to his feet and picking up the sword. He doesn't say anything, rather he waits and sees what Vaughn has to say. When the District 4 boy finally makes it to him he says, in a soft voice, "I left the Careers."

"Really," Nicholas replies in a strange monotone.

"Yeah. Jenna's gone and I couldn't stay with Celer for much longer. He would've killed me."

"He probably would have." He says this strangely, as if pleased and disturbed by the fact at the same time. "Why are you here then?"

"I actually didn't think I'd find you. Well, I was hoping that I would, but I thought it was stupid of me to think that and then, here you are."

They are silent for a really long time, both boys staring at each other, taking in what the other may or may not do. Nicholas did not lower his sword and I now realize that Vaughn's hand is on his bolts as well. From experience, I know that by the time he got the arrow nocked, he would have been long dead. Slowly, the sword fell and Vaughn's hand follows suit.

"You better be a better hunter than I am," Nicholas says holding out a hand. Vaughn smiles taking it and giving him a firm shake.

With the softest of smiles, they went through what supplies they had left inside of Nicholas's backpacks. The two are very charismatic and they talk easily amongst themselves, commenting on different items and different memories since the Games began. I smile a little and turn to my next victim.

I look for Halsey for a little bit, not really going for her screen, but glancing at what she was doing. She had Ceres's pack on one shoulder and her own on the other. Surprisingly enough, the blowgun is in her hand with the bag of darts at her hip. I guess as long as someone uses it. She stares at it for a while and I wonder why, but then I see it. She hard carved Ceres's name into the side, that way the cameras and everyone back home will remember that it was hers.

I smile a little, knowing that I would never have done that if I were in the Games. I would have been cruel I'm sure, maybe even a little like Celer. I leave Halsey to her own doings and search for more.

I want to laugh when I eye my waterfall fortress and look for my favorite duo. I have kept tabs on Jasmine and Brican through out the last few days and things are still pretty tense. Jasmine has built a wall between them and no matter how hard he may try, Brican can't knock it down. I have to hand it to him though, he keeps trying as if she is her amusement during the Games. There are moments, though, when I think that she is going to open up to him, but she never does.

Jasmine is alone in the cave, going through the different plants she gathered. She glanced at the opening that Brican would have to go through to get inside. He was a horrible climber and I'm sure she is wondering if he is stuck somewhere on the bolder.

"Hey Jas! Guess what I found?" he says as his head peeks through the end of the rushing water. Jasmine simply looks at him, not bothering to say anything, seeing as Brican was going to tell her anyway. He has a small rabbit hung over his shoulder and tosses it on the floor so he can skin it. Then he searches through his pockets until he pulls out a flower.

But not just any flower. It's a jasmine flower, the same as the ones around her neck. (I almost forgot that I put them in there. It was more for beauty that anything else.)

She looks at it for a moment, confused and yet a small smile graces her face. It fits her, that smile. It makes her look mischievous yet genuinely happy. I haven't seen that from her. She takes it from his hand and admires the white petaled flower.

"My friend back in District 12 always said that jasmine was her favorite flower. Her father was a doctor of some sorts and she would go with him to get herbs and stuff." He looks at the white plant, remembering this girl he may never see again. I imagine this girl, sitting at home in District 12, knowing that he is talking about her. It feels good for a while and then you realize that they may never come back. Yet another feeling that I am aware of.

"Thank you," she says placing it at her side with gentle hands.

"I figured it would make you feel a little better. I did that for my sister, Me-Ro, and she never let me forget it." His lips move, but I hear nothing, his voice drowned out by the waterfall. The one thing my father never taught me was how to read lips. Go figure, right.

"Thank you," she says again, her eyes glued to the flower. She is replaying a memory, most likely something that has to do with her family.

"Do you know how to weave? Because it's getting pretty hard hunting for food when I don't have a bag to carry it in." She blinks then looks at him, shaking her head blankly. He shrugs a little then begins to skin the rabbit.

They are quiet for a long time until Jasmine says, "My smallest brother gave me a flower before the reapings. It was a daisy." Brican looks at her, eyes neither wide or surprised, merely intrigued.

"Me-Ro did that for me too, but it was actually an azalea. Full grown and beautiful." He wanted to ask her more, about her brother's name or what they were doing before hand, but he knows that he won't get anything else from her and decides to take what was given to him.

He continues talking and telling her about his mother and sister and friends to cover up whatever regrets or embarrassments she might have about telling him about her brother. Some stories he repeats (after all, he does talk very often), but Jasmine doesn't say anything about it. Her eyes are still on the flower, remembering the brother she needs to return to.

* * *

After a lot of protest from both sides, Baruch decides to pull out another muttation. "It's about time we let this one roam," he says in his false authoritative tone. "I think this mutt will be of good use to us in the future." So I pull out my pride and joy.

I call him Will because he will kill you if he sees you. I had gotten the idea for this one when I read an old book about mythology and then an old fairy tale. I originally planned for him to be a centaur (a creature with a human torso then a horse's behind), but then I realized that he would bring a lot of attention to himself, especially because he'd be incredibly tall. Instead, I made him a faun, with a Pied Piper twist to it. Baruch loved it and Wayne was bitter about my creation.

When I call forth my mutt from the thick forests, I admire him once more. He does not appear to be strong (in fact he looks rather boyish) but he isn't. He has muscles under the porcelain skin and could probably rip someone apart if he wanted. Will's eyes are orange and gold reminding me of a sunset. His bottom is that of a goat, modified so that is indestructible to most weapons. The hair on his body is deep brown, but his head has more of a reddish color. Finally, at his hip is a small white pipe created so that he could tear it apart and stab someone with a quick killing venom.

Will is handsome, even more so than Gamil, and if you don't see his bottom half, it would be easy to confuse him for a tribute. That is exactly what I wanted. Mutts need to be able to blend in for a while and yet still be identified as a mutt. Will will not kill anyone, not yet anyway. He needs to be like the tributes, observing and judging them from afar.

When the time comes that he is ready to fight, the pipe will leave its post at his hip and he will play it until every single victim is dead.

"Robin's gonna hate you," Lee says motioning to my friend with her head.

I glance at Robin's expression as she tries to keep it neutral, but ultimately failing to do so as she shows intrigue and disgust at the same time. I am not surprised by her reaction (for she has a similar one every tine a mutt comes) but after everything that has happened this year, I think that there is something more to it. Something that has to do with her becoming a Gamemaker. After all, everyone here knows about Robin's compromise.

Will smiles into one of the cameras, getting my attention back as he does so, and walks quietly through the forest, whistling a small haunting tune.

**A.N. Kudos to **SimplySarcastic18 **for the idea of the next muttation.**

**Sorry for the belayed update. Now I could tell you why I didn't update sooner and waste your time, or simply continue with the good stuff. Who am I kidding, I'll go with the latter. **

**Next time...**  
Will finds his first victim,  
and the next tribute(s) dies...

**Fun Question:** _What does Finnick offer Katniss when they first meet?_

**Sponsor Prices Are Up!**** From now on all off the prices go up by **8 points.

Max Alleyne: 32  
KatnissIsTheLove: 22  
FlitterCherub: 24  
amazingbliss24: 8  
Maximum Warrior-of the Games: 18  
Claratrix LeChantham: 14  
Hahukum Konn: 28  
spindleberried: 36  
Frenzied Warrior:26  
L. JSmithLover24: 4  
The Essence of Fire: 1  
Mosstail21: 3  
Peetniss4eva: 2  
teamawesome: 3  
ur1fan: 3  
Fragrance -Of-The-Paradox: 6  
FoalyWinsForever: 22  
Skybones: 21  
SimplySarcastic18: 9  
crescentorose22: 14  
Turq8: 12  
FantabulousOboeLily: 3  
SallyLynn: 3  
Percabethlover112: 7  
Dibbly88: 3

*Finz*


	18. Whistle While He Works

Whistle While He Works

Hours turn into days, days turn into weeks, and by the time Baruch announces that it is the seventh day of the Games, I'm sure that he's lying. It had to have been longer. After all, there would be only six tributes by this now. I think it's Will that's buying us time. My creation stomps along the arena harboring unknown strength and observing all of the different tributes. He had just finished with Halsey yesterday, meaning he has officially seen them all. The pipe will fly very soon.

I particularly liked when he had seen Celer for the first time. The giant and last Career tribute practically knocked down all the trees in his way. I was tempted to have him blow the pipe then, but I decided that I should let Celer have his glory a few more times first.

There's an annoying itch in the back of my brain, one that irritates me to a point that I want to phase my hand through my skull and dig my stubby fingernails into the nuisance, like a dog scratching at a flea on his ear. No matter how many times I have tried, it just won't go away and the worst part is, I have no idea what to do about it.

The last time that I can remember having this kind of dilemma was when I was thirteen. That was when the shortage hit our district and we were left with little food for a month and a half. Many people not used to the hunger died that year, most of which were Peacekeepers. The Capitol made sure to keep us stocked from then on.

I can hear the little mockingjays on the other side of the screen sing their morning song. Will sits under them, his hand resting on his pipe. He stands in the thick forests again, waiting patiently for me to place in his next orders.

"Come on Ariadne! It's time to see what this baby can do," Baruch says, perspiring as he speaks.

"I'm sure we won't see much," Wayne sneers. "After all, its weapon is a flute."

"Hello it's a pipe," I shoot back. "If you're going to insult me at least do it properly." Lee snickers a little, but Wayne still glares icicles at me.

"Your mutt isn't perfect. You'll see that mine is ten times better than yours." And he jumps back into character too quickly for me to even comment on the strange comment. I let it slide off of me and begin typing controls for Will.

Some time later, he stands, straightens himself, and plays the pipe for the first time.

It's an old lullaby that has been sung for generations. It is nearly impossible for one not to know it. The mockingjays above him stare wonderfully at the instrument and Will pauses to let them copy it. The little birds catch on immediately, fluttering around him as he begins to walk.

I take this time to check up on the tributes. Celer has been lingering in the vicinity of Flare's camp. I wonder if he knows that she's there, only, he can't find her. He ought to watch out though because her sponsors sent her a beautiful knife set yesterday (it's a Claude D'Launes working. He has the reputation creating the finest tip in all of Panem).

Halsey has been doing surprisingly well. Despite only having the twelve blow darts, the snares she learned in training helped her catch a little more as well.

The Trio are still in their den, though Gamil is getting restless due to the lack of interference on our side and the scarce food source.

The boys, Nicholas and Vaughn, have bonded very well together. Their my favorite, next to Brican and Jasmine.

Those two are something else. I have to admire Brican's commitment to Jasmine because she has not been making his life any easier since he gave her the flower. She nags at him, making sure he gets enough meat or takes care of the knife. She often comments on his bad form whenever they leave their nest together. It's for his own good of course, but I would have killed her by now. Brican, however, is very patient with her, never raising his voice or getting angry at her (though he was a little unnerved when she said that he had a bad form). Brican likes her, I mean really likes her, maybe even loves her, and he seems content in waiting for her to reciprocate those feelings. It'll take a long time for that to happen, but she does seem to understand that she is practically indebted to him since he saved her from the Careers.

I can only hope that they aren't Will's first victims.

I created a randomization device that automatically draws a number when he is ready to kill. That number corresponds to one of the tributes inside of the arena and he will go from there. The mere suspense before he actually gets to a tribute will cause me a heart attack.

I glance at Rhys for a moment. We haven't spoken (or met) for a long time. I miss his company and the looks he gave me and the comfort his gentle touches would bring. I hope he'll be able to stick around once the Hunger Games finish.

"I'm going to rest my eyes for a little," I tell Baruch. He nods, but doesn't bother looking at me. Rhys glances in my direction, but before he can do anything more his eyes fly away, ashamed. Only one reason for that.

Lee's eyes fly from me to Rhys multiple times before I finally close the door to take a nap. It's relatively empty in the room, except for Robin. I don't plan on waking her any time soon, especially since Will started his rampage.

I am engulfed into the large over-fluffed love seat while my fingers begin to carve away at one of my totems. I have finished seventeen already, mainly because there hasn't been much to do since Will came. Only seven more until I am finished.

When Rhys comes into the room, I expect him to bring me a message or something, for he would never do something so risky at a time like this. But when I see him with empty hands and an equally empty gaze, I think that he must have gone mad. Perhaps it was Lee, who made sure he didn't even go near me since the night of the interviews. Or maybe he simply missed my company. I know that I missed his.

He sits down beside me, his arm resting across my shoulders. It's a little awkward at first, but I eventually relax and continue my carving. He doesn't try to stop me, simply content at watching my expert hands handle the wood. I like having him watch me. It reminds me of the days when my mother would pull me into her laps and slowly create a figure with perfect precision and delicate strokes. I try to copy her now, though I don't know if I am succeeding.

His hand falls on top of mine and I look up at him, expecting to see something, anything, but I come up empty. He just stares, observing me with unbiased eyes. It's a strange feeling and I shift a little under him. I wish I knew what he was thinking, if only for a moment.

"Ah hem." I nearly jump to the moon at the sudden noise and I expect the worst. Lady Grey, Gavyn, Wayne, or worse, Baruch. Thankfully, it's only Lee.

Rhys looks up at her and I expect him to scurry away from me. But to my greatest surprise, he comes closer to me, staring at her straight in the eye. He is in no way ashamed of us.

Lee is less than pleased and makes a great effort to walk in front of us and pull us apart. Rhys's arm falls to his side and he looks up at Lee with defensive eyes. When he stands, I almost expect him to punch her, but then, with a brisk smile in my direction, he leaves.

"What did you want Lee?" I ask her softly.

"Hm? Oh yes." She takes in a deep breath and sits beside me, staring at my handiwork like Rhys before her. "It's time you know the truth."

"Honestly, Lee, you have to be more specific." I try joking at her serious tone. She still looks at me with grave eyes and slowly takes the wood from my hand. Now she has my full attention.

"He was my sister's best friend, practically apart of the family, if you ask me. His real name back then was Darius Rhys Carilor. He was smart, handsome, and had a voice that was smoother than velvet. He wanted to be a craftsman, despite his rich upbringing. So one day, he snuck onto a train and went to District 12." I don't like where this was going. Capitol citizens were to stay in the Capitol and anything else was a great taboo. "He only wanted to see the crafts trades, but he got something more. For the first time in his comfortable life, he saw poverty up close. And at the worst degree.

"It was then that he made his greatest decision. He stayed in District 12. He blended in easily, something he had always done well, and became an artist. Under the codename Rhys, he painted beautiful portraits of his life in the Capitol, stressing how they did nothing while the Districts worked their asses off. He caused an uproar in the district and they were quick to silence him."

She looks at me, and I know she expects me to say something, anything, but for the life of me, I can't think of anything to say. What does one say to a story like that. Finally I manage to blurt out, "Is that supposed to change my opinion of him?"

She shakes her head remorsefully. "He isn't the same boy as the one in my story, full of curiosity and potential. He's only a shell of that now, a distant memory. You may think what you're doing is helping him, but it's tearing his up inside."

I swallow back my venom. I want so badly to yell at her and tell her that she's wrong, but then I realize something. She may be right. Hell, do I even know Rhys very well? It's not like he's ever really tried to tell me anything about him. He always asks about me, as if to remember how his life was once like. I shake my head of these thoughts. "How would you even know? You don't know how he acts with me."

"I know Rhys. He may enjoy your company, but inside, he sees you as a spoiled and comfortable District 2 kid. He sees you as the person he once was, but never wants to be again." The statement hurts me more than I have ever thought possible. It has to be a lie. He and I have a real relationship. We've spoken for years. He's my friend. And yet...

"I'm not saying that I am one-hundred-percent correct, but I respect you too much to just let you live in the dark like that. He may have changed. He may have real feelings for you." I close my eyes trying to remember every time I have ever a seen him. Everything Lee says is right. The looks he would give me, the ones I never really understood until now. I want to cry or yell or something more than what I am doing now, which is a whole lot of nothing.

"Will must have caught up to his next victim by now," I choke out with my face buried in my hands, "We should go." Lee nods, casting me one last glance before leaving. I look at Robin, wondering if she heard any part of the conversation. If she did, she would never say so.

When I finally took my seat, I take my mind off of my personal problem the only way I know how: focusing on my work. I search the map and find Will awfully close to where the Trio's hangar is. The only question is, which one is he going to go after. I really hope it's not Smith. I don't want it to be Gamil or Cressida either, but definitely not Smith.

I sneak a peak at what is going on with them. Gamil is sharpening his ax while Smith and Cressida are taking in the last few bites of their meat.

"Did you find anything yesterday?" Gamil asks Smith.

"No, there isn't much around here. Maybe some plants, but I can't identify any of them." He purses his lips and the clang of the rock and steel is silenced for a moment. His face scrunches together, his mind wandering. Smith continues eating, but Cressida looks at him very concerned.

"Gamil?"

"Smith, you want to go and look for food on the other side of the mountain?" The twelve-year-old's face paled a little and he swallowed whatever was in his mouth harshly.

"By myself? I can handle a little rabbit, but if there's a bear or something, I won't be able to do it."

"Come on Smith! You've got the best shot around." He still looks uncertain with his wide eyes getting larger. He swallows again, though this time it isn't because he is eating.

"I can do it," Cressida offers as she stares at Smith's fearful face.

"Cressida, you can't go." Gamil says.

"And why not?" she asks with a raised eyebrow.

"Well," he says, trying to choose his words wisely. "You can't use a weapon. What if you see something?"

"It's not like I'm going to camp down there. I'll just look around for a bit then come back." Gamil was already shaking his head.

"It'll take the Gamemakers a second to bring out a mutt." Her eyebrows furrow together, her face set.

"I don't need anyone to protect be from the big bad Gamemakers. Besides, if you're so afraid then Smith could wait on the mountain side and come to my aid if something happens." Gamil is still unsure and he tries to find another excuse, but Cressida is persistent and he knows he cannot win.

"Fine, but you better call us at even the slightest sign of trouble."

Cressida goes to the thick forests through the series of tunnels deep within the mountains. Smith waits for her in the mouth of the opening and Gamil is leaning against a tree a few yards ahead of him. He wanted to follow her, but she would have probably killed him for doing so (not literally, of course).

She walks around, finding many different creatures and wildlife through the dense redwoods. She leaves a trail of white cloth that she had made from their shirts. Her limp makes a lot of noise, but she doesn't seem to care.

The soft tune of Will's pipe comes to her through the mockingjays first. They sit in the high branches, singing the lullaby. Familiar with the song, Cressida starts to hum it as well, making a few mockingjays stop to pick it up again.

Then the song becomes clearer and the bird's voices are muted by the sound of a wooden pipe. Cressida turns around and meets face to face with Will.

"Well isn't this my lucky day," he says. His melodious voice is enough to make the mockingjays try to mimic it. (In the back of my mind, I figure it is what Rhys's voice once sounded like.) Cressida opens her mouth to scream for help, but a rock is caught in the back of her throat and nothing comes out.

Will goes closer to her, his steps nearly silent against the debris. He continues to play the lullaby until he is close enough to actually touch her. The pipe finds its way at his hip and just when he moves to touch her face, she screams.

Gamil and Smith run from their posts, trying their best to follow her trail of cloth. Will knows, however, that by the time they come, she'll be dead.

He grabs her by the arm, lifting her off of the ground effortlessly. Then he throws her to the ground as if she were a hammer. He does this twice, bones breaking every time. Blood begins to ooze from the sides of her lips and she coughs up mucus, spit, and more blood. He lifts her up for a third time, but before he could smash her into the ground again, I type in the code for him to end it. To end her.

Taking the pipe in hand once again, he moves the mouth piece with his thumb and index finger, producing a long needle. "Consider yourself lucky," he says, stabbing the needle into her neck. The poison rushes through her blood stream and the canon is fired almost instantly after.

Will gently lays her on the floor and fixes his pipe. I give him a new target and he leaves once again playing the lullaby.

The boys get there only seconds after Will leaves. Gamil shakes her, telling her to wake up, but he knows deep down that she's gone. Smith cries freely because if it weren't for Cressida, it might have been him who was dead.

The hovercraft comes and takes her away, leaving the blubbering boys by themselves.

* * *

Robin doesn't seem to care about much when she finally goes back to her seat. She checks up on Halsey and silently bounces her rubber ball. It annoys some, but no one bothers to say anything.

I stand up to get something from the buffet table when the doors to the elevator open. Every eye goes to the golden door. The elevator never opens during the Games. Even the Avoxes use a separate entrance to get to the stairs. Baruch stands and is ready to shoo away the intruder.

But before he can say or do anything, the young man in the elevator hobbles out and exclaims, "The President's fallen ill! The President's been poisoned!"

**A.N. That's the moment you've all been waiting for! Snow has made his first move struck! And you know about Rhys.**

**From here on out, everything going to be a pretty fast paced and I'm sorry if it gets a little sloppy. There were a lot of things I had wanted to do and not nearly enough time in this story to do it. There are two Ariadne plots that need to be told and then the tributes and I feel bad that Celer didn't kill a lot so he gets a turn... and yeah.**

**Just a heads up. **

**And now, a moment of silence for Cressida Johansen.**

**Next time...**

Celer gets his kill,  
Jasmine and Brican have a revelation,  
and Nicholas and Vaughn are in trouble...

**Fun Question:** _In _Catching Fire_, why did the man in District 11 get shot? (It was during the Victory Tour)_

Max Alleyne: 34  
KatnissIsTheLove: 23  
FlitterCherub: 26  
amazingbliss24: 8  
Maximum Warrior-of the Games: 18  
Claratrix LeChantham: 14  
Hahukum Konn: 30  
spindleberried: 18  
Frenzied Warrior:27  
L. JSmithLover24: 4  
The Essence of Fire: 1  
Mosstail21: 3  
Peetniss4eva: 2  
teamawesome: 3  
ur1fan: 3  
Fragrance -Of-The-Paradox: 6  
FoalyWinsForever: 22  
Skybones: 21  
SimplySarcastic18: 11  
crescentorose22: 16  
Turq8: 14  
FantabulousOboeLily: 3  
SallyLynn: 3  
Percabethlover112: 7  
Dibbly88: 3

*Finz*


	19. Panic

**In a fight below, I use some fencing lingo. Here is a little guide for the people who aren't really familiar with the terms I use:**

**Quarte, Octave, Sixte**: different parry positions  
**Parry**: blocks  
**Remise**: continuing a short attack without withdrawing from the attack before  
**Riposte**: a hit after a parry

Panic

We ran around the room like chickens with their heads cut off. People yelled, bodies pushed, and no one could really get a hold of themselves. The President was dying, poisoned, and no one knew who. Well, I'm almost one-hundred-percent sure that it's Snow, but with no evidence, my opinion is rejected.

I search for Baruch among the crowd, wondering if he was doing anything to calm us down. A high pitch whistle stops us all on our tracks as we search around to see who among us did it. When no one stepped forward, Baruch took their place.

"Alright, I know this is going to be hard on all of us, seeing how the President was very close to almost everyone here, but we still have the Games going on, and we need the Districts' attention here now more than ever. If they find out the President is dying it'll give them an excuse to try and over take the Capitol. And the last thing we need right now is panic in the Capitol." Most of the Gamemakers (the Capitol ones no doubt) nod, but I shake my head. There would be no possible way to gather a good enough force to attack the Capitol with this little notice. Not to mention the only real trained soldiers are in District 2 and there is no way they would turn against the Capitol.

"What we need to do is end the Games as quickly as possible while still dragging it out long enough for people not to notice what happened to President Hale. We're putting everything on high speed. Lure that Career boy to the tributes, turn tributes on each other, take away resources, I don't really give a shit! Just do as much as you can and run it by me before you do it! Now everyone back to their posts and get back to work."

They are still completely clueless and they yell out different ideas. Baruch is easily overwhelmed and he yells out for them to go one at a time. I think it's funny, but I know better than to laugh at him.

I ignore the craziness around me and glance at the map. We had to gather everyone up first. They are all spread out, especially Vaughn, Nicholas, and Halsey. If we want to end this properly, we have to get them together, but not at the oasis. Some, I'm sure, don't even know of its existence, and I think Vaughn would run around the entire arena before going there to face Celer. It has to be pure survival. We can't give them another choice. I glance at Baruch to tell him this, but his wide eyes darting every where tells me that I'm better off telling him later.

I glance around the arena, trying to find the perfect place to have them meet. My first instinct is the waterfall, not only because Smith, Gamil, Jasmine, Brican, Celer, and Flare, but it would also be easy to get them there, especially if we cut off the water. It would be bad for the other three, though, because by the time they get there, they would be worn out and thirsty.

We should start off simple. Get the three outsiders to migrate toward the others. At least then, there's a better chance of one of them meeting up.

Deciding to wait until things quiet down, I check up on my favorite duo. Jasmine is securing the bowl Brican made with the plastic he got from the Cornucopia against the rocks. They have water inside and a small fire underneath. There is a thick layer of clay around the plastic so that it wouldn't burn. It was another thing that Brican had learned from home. The smoke makes the enclosed area very muggy, and Jasmine makes a great effort to keep her breath held.

Brican stands outside, waiting patiently for Jasmine to join him. The smoke was nearly invisible past the waterfall, though he did see small slivers of black seep through the edges. None was strong enough to bring attention to themselves.

Jasmine finally scampers out of the cavern and climbs up the side of the boulder to meet Brican. The boyish man sits at the very top of the waterfall, kicking his legs back and forth with a small smile. Jasmine sits next to him with a serious look on her face. They don't speak, which seems to be an average greeting for them.

"The Gamemakers are going to end it soon," she says.

"What do you mean? There are still nine tributes left." She looks at him and then at the bright blue sky.

"I mean they're going to kill us off like flies. They were making us comfortable, making sure we thought we were safe and they're going to strike."

"What makes you say that?"

She shrugs a little. "Instinct."

"So what are you trying to say? I mean I'm pretty sure we would be safe behind the cave." Her eyes dart to the ground, probably realizing how easily it would be to die if she were to lose her balance. But Brican would catch her, she knows just as much as I do.

"I don't want us to be the final two." I could hear the underlying words. _I don't want to have to kill you._ She would too. Not because she is just a coldhearted person, but because she has a family to take care of. I remember seeing all of the little children that were crying for her when her name was called at the reapings. Her siblings. Not even Brican would change her love for them.

"You want me to leave?" he asks slowly. She hangs her head, not looking into his eyes, because she must know what emotions would be there.

"It'd be for the best."

His eyebrows furrow together and he opens and closes his mouth multiple times. Finally he says, "The final five. When it gets to that then I'll leave, no questions asked."

She wants to reject, but she seems to know that she lost this battle. Only four more dead tributes and then he leaves. Her face contorts, probably discomforted by the pleasure she felt by the idea.

They sit in an awkward silence, which I never thought was possible with Brican always talking. He is very deep in thought, as if trying to trace back his feelings for this girl who hated and liked him at the same time. His confusion was evident on his face, but not in his voice as he stood and said he was going to check on the water. She doesn't say anything as he slowly climbs inside of their cave, no longer hiding his hurt expression.

I feel a little bad for him. I mean, I'm sure he expected it to end eventually, but, she did say it a little too early. She could have at least waited until the final eight.

I focus back to the big picture. With the excitement of Will's first kill going on, I know that it would keep the Capitol very intrigued if another death were to happen in the next few hours. It would buy us some time to figure something out. Unfortunately, the only people close enough to actually battle are Celer and Flare and Celer can't track anything. A trail is what I need. I remember what Wayne had done some days before with the animal blood. That is something that he could follow.

Without bothering to yell for Baruch's attention, I quickly gather one of the weaker mutts that I made. It looked like a little innocent rabbit, and I had made it so that it would go by unnoticed while also fulfilling any personal things I may need. I have it prickle its foot then leave a very obvious blood trail from Celer's vicinity to Flare's. Even the biggest idiot in the world must know what that means.

"What are you doing Ariadne?" I jump at Baruch's voice and I consider ignoring him, but then I see his distressed expression and pity him a little. I tell him all of my plans and ideas.

"Do you think it'll work?" he asks afterward. I shrug a little and glance at the screen. Celer takes the bait and follows the red trail on the floor.

"Who knows. At least it'll give us a chance to think of something more long term."

"And about gathering the tributes? What do you think we should bride them with?" I narrow my eyes at him. Baruch has always been a proud man and him asking me such a question bothers me.

"Too soon to tell," I reply simply.

"Well, I think..." Wayne begins as he starts naming his own ideas. He starts another wave of insanity and I focus back on the arena. I silently tell Marit to focus on Flare while Lysander stays with Celer.

Flare sits at her camp, admiring the knives she got from her sponsors. Even I find a little envy in the blades. I have never had the pleasure of wielding such a magnificent weapon, though I almost stole one on my fourteenth birthday. Her long slender fingers handle the blade with such care I know that she must know its wealth as much as I do. The knives against the shortsword is a battle all in itself.

"And I finally found someone." She jumps up, two knives in hand, and addresses Celer with a defiant glare. He shows no sign of processing the look as he holds his sword in front of him effortlessly.

Without a moment's notice, he brings down his sword, but she has enough experience to make a "t" with her knives and parries the blow. She is no where near as strong as him, but she seems to know what she is doing. He tries a different approach and feints a jab to her chest then moves into an uppercut. But she still is on top of it, blocking the jab to her chest with one knife then the uppercut with the other.

They begin to dance in her clearing, lunging and thrusting, neither competitor getting the upper hand. He parries her blows almost as easily as she parries his. While her offense isn't as good as her defense, she does manage to nip him on the arm and stomach a few times.

Celer doesn't like fighting her, especially because he can't seem to get the on top. He is observing her as he continues to attack, I can see it in his eyes. Her ripostes are sloppy and she moves from parry to parry. Quarte, octave, sixte. All of which are simple blocks and after a few minutes, I know what he has to do to win.

The proper name for it is flèche and it was my brother's favorite move. He had to extend his arm, aggressively fling himself at his opponent, and continue running past him in case he misses. It was a very effective move against inexperienced fighters since they still focus on the first attack to try and stab the attacker as they pass. It would probably work on Flare, assuming that he did the right combination of moves beforehand.

And he does. The final combination begins with a simple lunge, then a remise, and finally the flèche. Flare responds well with the lunge and just manages the remise, but as he runs forward with the flèche, she is dumbfounded for a moment, and that is all the time he needs to run her through.

The canon that fires afterward holds more of a confirmation that she had lost than anything else. At any moment, I half expected her to jump up and turn his own blade against him. But that didn't happen. He took his short sword with a broad smile and laughed a little at her deadened form.

Someone in the room sighs and another gives a low whistle. I am suddenly aware of the silence and the distant sound of Robin's rubber ball.

"Vaughn, Nicholas, and Halsey need to move," I say to break the silence. Baruch looks at me and nods.

"What do you think we should do? You did design it after all."

"I think," Wayne starts, "that we should-"

"No one asked you!" I snap. He glares at me, but I ignore the weak expression. The ball stops for a moment, then begins again, continuing our conversation as well.

"A fire would be too predictable. With the death of two tributes so close together, a cliché such as that will kill the Games. A gathering could be called, but there's no guarantee that they'll come, especially because Vaughn and Nicholas have a decent amount of supplies. They have to be pushed out of their home."

"Mutts?" someone says.

"No, with my mutt still hunting, the audience will think we're too incompetent to deal with the problems ourselves." That probably isn't true, but Wayne's muttation is in their vicinity and that one is ten times worse than the scorpions. Baruch doesn't completely believe me, but he accepts it nonetheless.

"A landslide," Lee says. I look at her as she meets my gaze.

"All we would need is a lot of rain, but only on their side of the arena. They are on a slope and eventually, they'll have to move forward. The water sources will be dead and everything else will have a similar fate."

"Lee, you're a genius!" I exclaim as I tell Baruch about her idea.

Seconds later, the rain started pouring. The dirt turned into slop almost instantly and the build up began to press down on the trees and any other animal in its way. Nicholas and Vaughn began searching for shelter through the mud immediately, and Halsey did the same, though in the other direction. Halsey will get to a safe place earlier than the boys since she is closer to the "safe" zone.

The boys walk in the horrible rain for at least an hour. It is as if we pour buckets of water over them, and we practically do. The rain drops are bigger than that of the ones we get here and they are coming at a faster pace. It comes up to their knees. To continue moving, they link arms and fly from trunk-to-trunk to keep themselves from being taken by the strong current.

About three hours in, the mud becomes dangerous. It rushes down the mountain side quickly, too quickly and it begins to take down numerous trees with it. I glance around the area that the boys are in. There is a huge tree heading straight toward them.

"Come on, come on," I say softly. "Go faster."

But they can't hear me. They continue at the same pace as before, but then Vaughn looses his balance, flowing down with the current. Nicholas tries to grab him, but fails. He, then, goes from tree to tree, carefully moving so that he won't follow Vaughn's example.

The District Four boy manages to keep his head up, his years of swimming doing him justice. He maneuvers his way through the trees until he finds one that he manages to grab onto. He slowly shimmies his body up the trunk and hangs on until Nicholas meets up with him. The other boy isn't doing as well as Vaughn. He moves too slow for his liking, and my own, because the tree from earlier is getting awfully close to him.

I see the next events in slow motion. The large trunk slams into Nicholas, taking all of the air from his lungs. He just manages to grab onto the branch in a weak grip as he flows down the current. He struggles to breathe and see as the rain blinds him. His body flies under water multiple times.

"Nicholas!" Vaughn cries as the tree holding his friend passes him. He cautiously follows it, making sure that he doesn't crash into anything. He must be used to this type of craziness if he works on a fishing boat.

Vaughn gets to Nicholas, grabbing onto the branch adjacent to his. The Seven boy breathes a little easier now, but hit still comes out in a staccato rhythm. He hangs on, until the large trunk finally gets caught between a thick grove of trees. Vaughn knows that this may be his only time to move.

He grabs Nicholas by his arm and tries maneuvering him so that he is on the same side as Vaughn, but he doesn't budge. He tries again and yells to Nicholas over the thundering rain to ask what's wrong.

Just their luck, his leg is wedged between two trees. Vaughn rushes to inspect it, and sure enough, the end of his leg is caught in between the two large trunks. The District Four boy curses and tries to move the tree so that his leg could move free. Nicholas howls in response, but the other boy does not stop. Vaughn moves slowly, probably fearing that if he moves it too fast, they will be taken by the current again. Finally, his mangled leg comes free and Vaughn grabs him.

He moves to the closest branch he could reach and lifts himself and then Nicholas up the tree. They climb up as quickly as possible with Nicholas's lame leg until they find a flat enough place to stay until the rain and mess below dies down.

We ease up on the rain. We didn't necessarily getting the response we wanted, but we still got a decent enough show from it. At least they will have to leave the area now.

* * *

Things quiet down considerably as the sun finally goes down and the moon takes its place. Nicholas and Vaughn are still in the tree, trying to sleep while the light rain attacks them. Good thing they have sleeping bags.

Halsey made it out of the area before it got too bad. She sits not too far from where Flare died only a few hours before. She stares at the small amount of meat and eats, the roar from her stomach being heard by everyone in the room.

The others sleep soundly, that is until I see Gamil and Smith, waiting quietly under the tree tops. They look into the sky, and don't say anything until the anthem plays and Cressida's face shows up. Smith starts to sob quietly again and Gamil lets a smile tear slide down his cheek. They left the cave during the landslide and kept walking until they found a small creek to stay by.

"It's not your fault, Smith," Gamil says. The young boy wipes away his tears with the back of his sleeve and sniffles a little.

"There was nothing you could have done, and you know that Cressida would have never let you go down there by yourself. Besides, if you or I went with her, then we'd be dead too. Yeah, it would be two lives lost instead of just one." He seems to be convincing himself more than comforting Smith.

"I just feel guilty, you know," he responds. Gamil nods.

"I know what you mean."

They are silent for a long time. They stare into the sky even after Cressida's face disperses into the stars. The boys refuse to look at anything else.

"You kind of remind me of my little brother," Gamil says suddenly. Smith smiles a little, but then his eyebrows furrow together slightly.

"I thought you only had a sister."

"I had a brother once too. That was a while ago though." He closes his eyes, as if remembering what had happened to this mysterious brother of his. "It was during the reapings a few years back. My dad was holding him and then he started screaming, for no real reason. The Peacekeepers got mad..."

"Shit," someone says. I think it was Robin.

I'm confused for a second. Why would she be cursing? What did she do? But then I listen closely to the story. It sounds very familiar, too familiar. A Peacekeeper whipped his father to pry his little brother from his arms. The little brother's name Bulri...

I jump up from my seat, startling the people around me. My father didn't kill just any kid. He killed Gamil's little brother. The brother to the boy that I'm trying to kill myself.

**A.N. Yup, things are getting kinda intense, and they will continue that way until the end. I think I'll have five or four more chapters of the Games alone and then a chapter or two to finish up Ariadne's part of the story. I have most of it planned, but I'm always opened to change.**

**A moment of silence for Flare Heartforth.**

**And I put up a poll on my profile to see who you guys want to win the 37th Hunger Games.**

**Next time,**  
Celer strikes again,  
and trouble brews among the alliances...

**Fun Question:**_ What is the name of Prim's goat?_

Max Alleyne: 36  
KatnissIsTheLove: 25  
FlitterCherub: 27  
amazingbliss24: 8  
Maximum Warrior-of the Games: 18  
Claratrix LeChantham: 14  
Hahukum Konn: 32  
spindleberried: 19  
Frenzied Warrior:28  
L. JSmithLover24: 4  
The Essence of Fire: 1  
Mosstail21: 3  
Peetniss4eva: 2  
teamawesome: 3  
ur1fan: 3  
Fragrance -Of-The-Paradox: 6  
FoalyWinsForever: 22  
Skybones: 21  
SimplySarcastic18: 13  
crescentorose22: 16  
Turq8: 14  
FantabulousOboeLily: 3  
SallyLynn: 3  
Percabethlover112: 7  
Dibbly88: 3  
nile hope: 6

*Finz*


	20. Seeing the Light

Seeing the Light

In the back of my mind, I knew I had no right to be angry. After all, I am doing the same thing to his brother. But I have never been one to be rational when my father's name is involved. It's not the same anyway. Gamil can save himself if he is a good enough fighter. Bulri was going to die, no matter how hard he fussed. And he was three.

I don't realize that I'm moving until I feel Baruch's hand on my shoulder, gripping it in a controlling hold. This angers me more than it normally would. In my dream, he was fighting for the reins that my father possessed, and I can see that he still does.

"This isn't the time for you to go crazy!" he cries. "Get back to your station and do what you're paid to do."

I want to punch him, partially because of the shit he put me through over the years and because he is trying to stop me from doing what has always been put off. It's about time that I talk to him.

"I need to make a call," I say in a strangely calm tone.

"I don't give rat's ass if you need to make a call! We're really busy and we need you." I pull my arm out of his hold and look at him straight in the eye.

"I need to make a call," I repeat.

He seems to know that he can't win this fight by himself and tries calling Lee and Robin to keep me here. Lee shakes her head and turns toward the screens, but Robin stands and walks toward me. Baruch thanks her as she makes her way toward me. We stare at each other for what feels like eternity. We don't say anything, and yet, it feels as though we've said everything. She nods to me then turns around to go to her desk, muttering her apologies to Baruch as she passes.

I leave the room still hearing Baruch's cries as I go. I take the Avox's staircase so that I can get down faster. If I were to wait for the elevator, I know someone would have held me down and forced me to stay. The stairs are cold and rusted away, nothing like the other ones in the President's mansion. It makes me appreciate the Avoxes that much more.

When I open the door to the floor below, I immediately search for a phone. I open doors, search the walls, even looking through one of the suitcases, but I can't find a thing. Finally, in the kitchen, I see the white telephone on the counter.

I snatch it in my hand and dial the familiar number. I press the phone to my ear and listen to the constant ringings with a shaky breath.

_Ring. Ring. Ring. Ri-_

"Hello?"

I freeze, unable to speak as I hear his voice. The voice I haven't hear in nearly eight years. Memories flood through my brain as I remember that voice being gentle then cruel. I'm not sure what to say to him, so I blurt out the first think that comes to mind.

"How could you do it?"

"Ariadne?" I can hear the surprise and despair in his voice. It somehow fuels my fury in a way that I can't explain.

"How could you do it?" I repeat with a little more venom.

"If you're talking about that kid from the Games, Ariadne, it's not what you think."

"Really because President Hale had a similar story."

"That's what was in the file, but that kid was a trouble maker."

"He was three."

"Even children can be premature trouble." He doesn't seem to understand, so I try a different strategy.

"Would you have done it to Cinna?" He pauses a moment, as if making sure he heard right.

"What?" he breathes out.

"Would you do the same thing to your grandson if he did something like that?" He repeats his silence, and the more time it takes him to answer the question, the more sure I am of his answer.

"It all depends, Ariadne." I squeeze my eyes shut and grit my teeth together. My free hand forms into a tight ball.

"I can't believe you'd kill your own grandson," I say in held back anger. "Your own flesh and blood."

"Things are never as simple as you think they are." My eyes fly open, my temper rising with every word he says.

"There is nothing difficult about it," I spit out. I know his anger is rising along with his impatience.

"You and Theseus could never see the truth, but if you'd just listen-"

"I'm tired of listening to you!" I cry, slamming my hand against the counter top. I run a frustrated hand through my hair and sit on the cold tile. Frustrated tears fill my eyes, but I am quick to push them back. We don't speak for some time, but then he says:

"What's the real reason you called?" I have been waiting years to tell him, but even as the opportunity presents itself, I am still afraid.

"Why did you leave?" I ask in the calmest voice I could muster.

"You know why. I'm a Peacekeeper. I had to do my job."

"Why then? Why not before? I mean, it seemed pretty convenient that they command you to do your job just when Theseus wins the Games. Right when we needed you the most."

"Ariadne..." He trails off and I'm sure he is considering hanging up the phone. "My job was done. I had nothing else to give you two."

"Oh! So you have two kids, raise them to be monsters, then leave!" I have never been this mad before, this furious. In the back of my mind, it felt good.

"I have never raised you to be monsters!" he yells. His outburst surprises me enough to let him continue. "I taught you how to survive. I taught you more than those other Careers knew."

"You abused us. You used us for your own personal gain." And as I said the words, everything clicked. Every move that might have confused me before made sense. There was nothing about my childhood that no longer puzzled me.

"That is not what I did. I loved you two."

"No you didn't," I begin with complete clarity. "It was a plan wasn't it, right from the start. You chose Mom because you knew of her abusive past. You knew she wouldn't fight you if you were to raise us this way. You weaseled your way into her heart so she could have us." He doesn't say anything, and I continue. "You probably only intended to have one kid, Theseus, but when you saw how flawed he was, you wanted one more, just to make sure. Did I pleased you, Father. Was I enough for you to be sure that one of us would win?"

"That's not true Ariadne. None of it is." But I can hear his lack of conviction. The tone of his voice alone was of a child whose biggest secret was told to the school's gossiper.

"That's the real reason why you left. You didn't need us anymore. Theseus, Mom, and I were no longer part of your plan, so you threw us away."

"I love you Ariadne." I know this is true, but I don't want it to be. With my father being as conniving as he is, there must be another reason why he loves me. It could be because I am a Gamemaker, or because I was the daughter that every District 2 father wanted, or even because he still sees me as his favorite little protegee. It doesn't matter anymore because I don't care. I am free from his hold on me.

"I don't want to see or hear from you anymore. No more books or letter, hell, I don't even want to see your name ever again." He doesn't speak, but as I move to hang up the phone, I hear a faint, "I do love you Aria. I do."

The phone clicks and I finally allow the tears to run down my cheeks. They fall furiously and I am unable to stop them. I think of Bulri, and Cinna, and Theseus. I think of Ceres, Jenna, Merton, Cressida, and Flare. I think of the many others who died before them and the ones who will continue dying after.

When I started my job, I was told that every so often, you have to ask yourself why you are a Gamemaker, and when you can no longer answer this question, it is time for you to stop. I had many different answers before, but now, I don't know. Why was I a Gamemaker?

* * *

They try to ignore me when I walk into the room, but they don't do a very good job at it. I take out one of the blocks of wood and attack it with all of my bottled up anger. I feel considerably better once I finish carving number nineteen and place it next to my other finished ones. They are all pretty rough and don't hold the details that I would normally put in. Still, they have a decent amount of quality.

When the sun comes up, the first thing I do, is check on Nicholas and Vaughn. I know that if Nicholas's injury isn't cared for soon, then it would get infected causing blood poisoning or maybe even bring in a flesh eating bacteria.

Vaughn somehow managed to bring Nicholas down from the tree and they walk together through the surviving stream from yesterday's storm. Nicholas's arm is draped over Vaughn's shoulders as he limps through the water. He winces every time they take a step, and am I absolutely certain that it is broken.

"Damn it Vaughn! Go slower!" he cries.

"If I go any slower then we will never get to a place to camp." Nonetheless, he stops a moment for them to rest. If they keep at their pace, they will probably be at the safe ground by nightfall. But with Nicholas's bad leg, I don't think they'll keep a steady pace.

A silver parachute falls from the sky and gets caught on a branch. Vaughn makes sure Nicholas is secure against the tree before going to the branches to grab their prize.

"A splint for your leg," he says going back to his friend. "How do you suppose we get it on without hurting you?" Nicholas laughs weakly then stares at his leg. Earlier, they had made a bandage from their shirts and wrapped it to try and keep his bleeding down. Seeing the blood soaked cloth, he knows it didn't help.

"I honestly don't think it'll matter. It'll still hurt like hell." Vaughn nods and gently tries to get hisleg through the splint. After many moans, cries, and grimaces, his leg is in the splint and I can see a bit of relief on his face. It will still hurt, but not as much. Hopefully.

I glance around for Halsey, who I fear ran into Celer. She didn't, though, she is searching crazily for water. Her small red dot darts across the land quickly. If she doesn't find water soon, then she will die.

Today seems like the day for sponsorship. Brican was sent a bottle of water early this morning. He took it gratefully and darted back to Jasmine. Despite his upset yesterday, he managed to push it back and seemed glued to her now more than ever. He probably wants to prove his usefulness to her.

"You know how I feel about you, don't you Jasmine?" he asks her as he sets the bottle on the floor. She looks up at him, her face clear of any emotion, but I can see the hint of surprise in her eyes.

"Of course I do," she replies with an emotion that I can't really put my finger on. He stares at her for a long time as if to make sure she truly does. A smile slide onto his face.

"Good." He seems content knowing that she knows how he feels about her. Their days together are numbered and it is only a matter of time before one of them dies.

"I'm going to search for food," she says making her way toward the opening.

"I'll go too. That rabbit is almost gone." Brican grabs the knife and joins her. They climb down the side of the cliff and glance at each other.

"I'm going to check the higher cliffs," Jasmine says. "Are you going to come along or hunt here?"

"I didn't find anything up there last time. I'll stick to the floor and meet you inside the cave." With a nod, Jasmine began to climb up the side of the waterfall to get to the top. By the time she reaches the top, Brican has disappeared through the trees.

Her mind flutters elsewhere as she identifies numerous amounts of plants. She picks a few, smells others, and ignores most of them. Her eyes narrow a little as she goes from plant to plant, letting very little escape her intense gaze.

It doesn't seem real at first. It startles her as much as it startles me. She is erect and completely still. It must have been our imagination. But then it happens again. A sharp cry that could have only come from a human. From a boy.

Jasmine runs as fast as she could to the edge of the cliff, dropping some of the plants in the process. She is about to climb down, when a figure stumbles into her view.

It is Brican, bloodied and with a horrible wound on his side. His hand tries to stop the bleeding, but it doesn't seem to do much. She opens her mouth, but quickly shuts it when she sees another being emerge from the trees. At the sight of Celer, she falls to the floor so she could not be seen and peeks over the edge.

Brican's knife is stuck in Celer's shoulder, though he pays little attention to it as he holds the shortsword in front of him. For a second, I wonder if Jasmine is considering helping her ally. After all, he would have done the same for her. But I know she won't. She has no weapon and running down there would be suicide.

So she stays put and doesn't make any sound as she sees Celer behead her only friend in one strike. Her hand flies to her mouth. No amount of abuse can prepare you for that kind of image. Even some of the Gamemakers widen their eyes and the newer ones rush to the bathroom.

Celer sticks around his body until the hovercraft comes to take it away. He looks at the debris with satisfied eyes. He takes out the knife in his shoulder, tosses it to the floor, and then leaves without a second thought to Brican's ally.

Jasmine waits for a good twenty minutes before going to where her friend has died. I may not know her true feelings for him, but she did care about him. It may not be the romantic way that he had wanted, but it was more than she had originally felt. Brican Mastez was something to her. If he hadn't, then she wouldn't have tried to run to his aid when he screamed.

Another silver parachute falls from the sky, and she manages to catch the prize before it hits the ground. It is a scythe, freshly sharpened and ready for blood. Her sponsor's motive is clear. Avenge his death.

She nods to herself and grips the weapon. Before leaving to track down Brican's murderer, she gathers whatever belongings she has, including the bottled water that Brican was given earlier. She holds it for a long time, as if considering leaving it behind. It was meant for him after all. She takes it anyway.

The secret cavern is empty by the time she climbs down the cliff. In one hand is the scythe, in the other is the flower that Brican had given to her. She tucks it safely into her pocket then walks through the trees.

**A.N. I feel like I half-assed this, but it's the best I got. Thank you guys for still reviewing. My biggest goal is to reach 200 reviews by the time this is over. If I somehow manage that, then I will be the happiest person alive.**

**Please vote on the poll to see who you want to win. It will probably effect who I choose to be the winner, so vote for your favorite(s).**

**A moment of silence for Brican Mastez.**

**Next time...**  
Celer makes another appearance,  
As does Will...

**Fun Question:** _What was Rue's job in District 11? (You only have to name one.)_

Max Alleyne: 38  
KatnissIsTheLove: 7  
FlitterCherub: 29  
amazingbliss24: 8  
Maximum Warrior-of the Games: 18  
Claratrix LeChantham: 14  
Hahukum Konn: 14  
spindleberried: 22  
Frenzied Warrior:30  
L. JSmithLover24: 4  
The Essence of Fire: 1  
Mosstail21: 3  
Peetniss4eva: 2  
teamawesome: 3  
ur1fan: 3  
Fragrance -Of-The-Paradox: 6  
FoalyWinsForever: 22  
Skybones: 21  
SimplySarcastic18: 13  
crescentorose22: 4  
Turq8: 16  
FantabulousOboeLily: 3  
SallyLynn: 3  
Percabethlover112: 7  
Dibbly88: 3  
nile hope: 6  
playinggodx: 3

*Finz*


	21. Two Days Left

Two Days Before

Baruch gave us the update. The doctors say that the President will die within the next couple of days, and the Head Gamemaker is giving us three days to finish everything up. Many of the others are nervous. We have never worked on an actual time crunch before. We did what we wanted to whenever we wanted to because we could. But this intense need to finish the Games has made everyone crazed (foam drooling from the side of their mouths crazed).

Robin is as calm as ever, and seems pleased to be letting out of the Games earlier than expected. She even offers a few ideas (though very minor) to get everyone else going. The rubber ball still pounds against the desktop, acting as our constant reminder that time is running out.

"Cut it out!" Wayne snapped at her once. "It's annoying." She held the ball in her hand and continued to switch her gaze from the ball to Wayne.

"Don't listen to him," Marit said. "He just needs his nap." And then the bouncing began again.

Things don't seem that much better with the tributes. They seem to sense our sudden rush and it makes all of them tense.

Nicholas is still in bitter pain, despite the gauze that was sent to him by his sponsors. When it came, Vaughn gave a bitter "psh" and said, "Well, aren't you popular, Mr. Getting-All-of-This-Expensive-Medicine." The District 7 boy laughed and his pain was gone for a second.

They sit by a river not too far from the main sight of the forest fire in the beginning of the Games. Smith and Gamil are a few miles away from them, actually, as are Celer and Jasmine. Halsey is behind, but is slowly making her way towards them.

"You know," Vaughn says sitting beside his friend. "I don't know a lot about medicine, but I think I did pretty well patching you up." He lightly pats Nicholas's leg and nibbles on a piece of jerky. The injured boy winces lightly at the contact.

"Yeah, but that's only because they gave you the stuff to patch it up. If I didn't get any of this, I have a feeling I'd practically be dead."

"That's not true. I could have done something. I can't think of anything now, but I could have if I had to."

"But you didn't!" Nicholas laughs. "I remember walking pretty far before this splint came in. What did you do to my leg then?" Nicholas's smile told the other boy he was joking, but Vaughn turns away feigning hurt.

"Well, the next time a giant tree trunk comes to attack us during a horrible rain storm that comes completely out of no where I'll remember to leave you alone."

They don't speak for a moment, and then erupt in laughter. The joyous sounds make me smile as I watch them. I wish they weren't in the Games. Maybe then they could have been friends.

Humming softly to myself, I glance around for Gamil and Smith. The young boys haven't moved much since leaving the cave. While they don't cry over it, I can still see the sadness for Cressida's death on them, Smith especially. The small campsite is running low on supplies and Gamil tells Smith this.

"You want me to go hunting? I mean, you went last time." The twelve-year-old shakes his head and plays with the hilt of his knife.

"I wanna go. It'd be better that way. Just need some time alone, you know." Gamil understands and gives him the okay to leave.

The young boy sets off into the woods, his mind drifting elsewhere. He keeps his eyes out for animals, though he isn't looking very well.

"Looks like it's his lucky day," someone says. I narrow my eyes a little then glance at the map. Turns out who ever spoke was correct because Celer is headed straight toward the campsite of Gamil and Smith.

Gamil has his hatchet in hand when Celer tromps into the clearing that has been the boys' home for the past couple of days. Celer is pleased to see that he has stumbled upon yet another tribute. Frankly, it must have been dumb luck.

"I heard you coming a mile away," Gamil mutters gripping onto his hatchet with too much force. He wants to drag out the fight with conversation and attack by surprise, but that's not how Celer fights.

The District 2 boy unsheathes his shortsword and attacks him without bothering to reply to Gamil's comment.

Gamil's fighting style isn't the same as Flare's. Flare had fought for the sole purpose of hand-to-hand combat while Gamil's skill comes from his district work. It was for stupid animals, not the smart prey. No matter how good he may be with that hatchet of his, he lacks real fighting.

All of this is evident when he tries to parry Celer's blows. He can hardly absorb the force of the blow and he tries to step away to move his arm around a little. That doesn't stop Celer from trying to attack him once more. He jumps back instead of trying to block again, and he narrowly misses the blade.

Gamil tried to use his right arm once again, despite the numbness from Celer's first hit, which is a horrible decision on his part. The sword attacks the hatchet, nearly breaking it in half. Gamil's arm is past its use and before he even has a chance to act Celer cuts off his right hand.

My only reaction to this is the narrowing of my eyes. He couldn't use his hand, anyway. Cutting it off was just unnecessary blood.

Gamil doesn't give himself time to process what has happened. He takes the ax into his left hand and begins to swing it wildly. They are very sloppy movements and Celer seems to parry almost every one. Gamil got lucky with one, which gave him a shallow cut on his arm. The larger man didn't seem to notice.

Celer lunges toward him, his blade running through his stomach. The ax falls to the floor and blood pools around him. Gamil coughs a little spit and blood and falls to the floor. He now seems to comprehend what happened to his hand and he stares at the bloody stubble with wide eyes and shallow breaths. The District 2 boy digs his blade into the grass then leaves Gamil to die in his own blood.

A few minutes later a creature emerges from the trees with a haunting tune following him. The birds still crowd around him, mimicking the gentle lullaby for all to hear. Gamil, recognizing the song from a few days earlier, already knows who is there.

Will circles Gamil's broken body, clicking his tongue against the roof of his mouth. He shakes his head as he looks at him, as if expecting more. His mouth curls into an "o" as he whistles the lullaby to himself.

Gamil watches the faun as he painstakingly begins to play with his flute. I gave him a few different poisons to play with, though all of which result in a quicker death. He adjusts the instrument with gentle fingers, and doesn't even bother glancing at Gamil. The young boy groans and moans considerably, though every time I think he is going to speak, his eyes get wide, his pupils dilate, and his mouth forms into a perfect circle.

"Broken bodies, disabled girls. I think I should handle Celer and be done with it," Will mutters to himself as he places the flute back together. He walks to the last District 9 tribute and shakes his head again. "Consider yourself lucky. I could have let you suffer."

He stabs Gamil with the poison and leaves. The cannon fires a few seconds after and the hovercraft flies in to take him away. Even covered in blood, his face is incredibly handsome.

"Are you alright?" Robin asks. Her voice pierces my attention to the screen and I am surprised to find her standing behind me. I pivot in my chair so that I can speak to her. She has a sad smile on her face, and I want to ask her why, but as always, I don't.

"I'm fine. Why wouldn't I be?" She knows why, but she knows better than to say it out loud.

"When you talked to your dad, did you get the answers you wanted?" I open my mouth and then close it numerous of times before I finally find the only answer I could tell her honestly.

"My dad's an ass." She laughs softly and places a hand on my shoulder.

"It's alright. So is my mom."

I raise an eyebrow at her. This is the first time I have ever heard her mention her mother. In fact, I had thought that she died many years ago. It seemed to be the only explanation to why she hasn't gone home yet. There would be no one back there, since her father died as well.

Robin catches my confusion and shakes her head, her eyes darting to the others in the room. Not now, but later. Nodding my understanding, I try to my attention back to my carvings. I only have a few left to do and I'm eager to finish. Robin walks away to the rhythm of her bouncing ball.

Before I begin though, I take a moment to glance at the picture of my family. I miss my mother. She was always so sad and distant from us, but the way she would interact with us through her carvings was amazing. For my birthday one year, she didn't bake a cake like most people did. She imported a huge block from District 7 and spent weeks slaving over it, then painted it so that it looked just as real as any other cake in the bakery. I still have it in my room back in District 2.

"Is that your family?" Lee asks. I glance up at her as she rubs away the sleep from her eyes. She had her nap, missing Gamil's death. Not sure she would have wanted to see it anyway.

"Yeah. My mom, brother, and nephew." She sits down in her seat and drinks the water she had left there from the day before.

"I didn't know your brother was married."

"He was. She died." Lee simply nods.

"Well, his son look nothing like him, or you for that matter."

"Yup, he looks just like Lyra." I smile at the memory of the girl my brother had loved and still does. I remember her too. She was always smiling, even as she was dying. That's why I loved her so much. No matter what was thrown at her, she always smiled. She loved Theseus much more that he did her, and I suppose it is best that she went first. I have a feeling her smile would have died with him.

"What's his name?" Lee asks, interrupting my train of thought.

"Cinna," I reply mindlessly.

"Cinna Zartonigh? That's kind of a mouthful, don't you think?" I shrug a little.

"I didn't pick it."

"I like the name Cinna, though. Your brother wouldn't mind if I used it, would he?"

"He doesn't own the name. Go ahead and use it for your unborn son." She smiles at me, sensing the sarcasm.

"Alright!" Baruch exclaims, rudely interrupting my conversation with Lee. "Ideas on how to gather the tributes. Go!"

Everyone screams at once and finally Baruch has them raise their hands instead. Different ideas flow through, though none have real potential. They lack imagination, constancy, and realism.

"Why don't we give them something that they need?" Robin says.

"Yeah," Lee chimes in. "All of the tributes need something after all."

"Smith doesn't. Not really anyway," Marit counters.

"He needs a weapon. He has the knife and all, but one throw and he's unarmed."

"Not anymore," she says pointing at the screen.

The young boy seems lost in the forest, unable to find his way back to the camp where Gamil's blood pool lies. It's understandable, considering how all of the trees are exactly the same. A silver parachute comes to his aid and for once, he knows it is for him.

It is a small pouch with twenty long shards, about the size of a dart. Throwing those will be easy for him, I'm sure. He takes one in his hand, gingerly running a finger over the fine edge. I half expect him to cut it. Then with great speed, he throws it to the nearby tree. A centimeter of the shard digs into wood and Smith skips to pull it out.

"So, he doesn't need a weapon," Lee continues. "What does he need then?"

"Gamil," I say blindly. Multiple raised eyebrows are thrown at me. "He doesn't know that he's dead and he's lost. If he thinks Gamil will be there, he would probably go as well."

"One problem genius," Wayne sneers, "He'll know by tonight."

"Not unless we don't show his face." The room is quiet. Not showing the faces of the dead is a tradition that has never been questioned, only because there was never reason to. I see it as a tribute to the tribute and while I would never want to take that away from Gamil, if we want Smith at the Gathering, it would have to do.

"Can we even do that?" someone asks.

"Of course," Baruch says, "but normally, we would have to get the okay from the President."

"Hale's on his deathbed," I reply. "Besides, the Gamemakers control everything about the Games, don't we?" And no one can argue with that.

"Okay, so that brings Smith there, and everyone else too, but where are we having this thing?" Wayne brings up. "After all, I blew up the Cornucopia and only Vaughn, Nicholas, and Celer know where the real one is." He has a point. It would be ridiculous to try and have a Gathering at a place that technically doesn't exist.

"We'll set off a set of fireworks to tell them where to go," I tell them. "It'll begin an hour before the actual Gathering and will keep going every five minutes after. That way they could follow the light." They all agree with this idea and we pick the deadened forest from the fire so that it will be difficult for them to hide while trying to get their items.

"We'll announce it tomorrow. Rest up everyone and get ready for the end."

* * *

Just before I lie down to take my well deserved sleep a letter slides under the door. I narrow my eyes at it. Rhys wouldn't have done something like that, even if I was asleep. I walk to the envelope and pick it up, considering waiting until after I sleep to read it. Realizing, I won't sleep until I read it, I open the letter and read the fine calligraphy.

_Ms. Zartonigh;  
_

_Surely you must know what has happened, and if not, I am pleased to be the first to tell you the great news. Hale is dying. Yes, your beloved president is leaving, meaning I will soon take his place. You can be afraid of what my intentions are, or you could trust me. Panem will be taken to its former glory with me in charge. There are so many things that we could do and now, I'll be able to do them. All I want is for you to stay out of my way. You can try to as hard as you want but we both know that you can no longer stop me. If you even try, you won't know what hit you. You keep your mouth shut, and so will I.  
_

_By the way Ariadne, how's Darius?_

_-Snow_

I should have waited until morning.

**A.N. I was supposed to finish this sooner, but I have a Tetris addiction. It is very deadly and can kill time instantly... :) **

**I'd like to thank the reviewers as well as the readers who have this on alert and just don't feel like reviewing. I don't mind really. As long as I know you're reading and liking it.**

**And yes there are two Cinnas and no I will not tell you which one is the real one.**

**A moment of silent for Gamil Calixto.**

**Next time...**  
The beginning of the end.

**Fun Question:** _Who took the tracker out of Katniss in the 75th Hunger Games?_

**Still vote on the poll if you hadn't already (though I basically know who the winner is)**

**Last chance to sponsor, because there is no chance that the last two tributes could get something that late.**

Max Alleyne: 40  
KatnissIsTheLove: 7  
FlitterCherub: 15  
amazingbliss24: 8  
Maximum Warrior-of the Games: 18  
Claratrix LeChantham: 14  
Hahukum Konn: 16  
spindleberried: 24  
Frenzied Warrior:32  
L. JSmithLover24: 4  
The Essence of Fire: 1  
Mosstail21: 3  
Peetniss4eva: 2  
teamawesome: 3  
ur1fan: 3  
Fragrance -Of-The-Paradox: 6  
FoalyWinsForever: 22  
SimplySarcastic18: 13  
crescentorose22: 4  
Turq8: 18  
FantabulousOboeLily: 3  
SallyLynn: 3  
Percabethlover112: 7  
Dibbly88: 3  
nile hope: 6  
playinggodx: 3  
booksandmusic97: 4  
Hatchet Weilder: 6  
sportygal101: 3

*Finz*


	22. Beginning of the End

**Doublé:** an attack or riposte that goes into a complete circle around the opponent's blade, and then thrusts at the opposite side.

Beginning of the End

"Ariadne! You gotta get up!" I groan and roll onto my side. "Come on, Jasmine caught up to Celer!"

My eyes fly open instantly and Lee chuckles under her breath. "How long ago?" I ask.

"Just now." I nod to myself and jump off of the couch without a moments notice. Lee leaves the room and I follow her anxiously.

A firework was set off into the arena as I enter the room. I must have slept a lot longer than I anticipated. Everyone's excitement over the next few hours washes over me and it seems to be at its peak now that Jasmine and Celer will finally get to their battle.

We decided to put a broadsword for Celer at the feast. I had only wanted to give him food, but Baruch insisted on bringing him a real weapon so that he can fight everyone.

Celer stands beside the trees not too far from where the source of the fireworks are flying up. The long stretch of deadened land is the only thing standing in his way. Well, and Jasmine.

She was smart to attack him before the Gathering because if he gets the broadsword, she doesn't stand a chance. Even now, the odds aren't in her favor.

Jasmine slashes at him with the curved weapon. Her only real advantage is that Celer has never fought against this type of weapon. Blocking wouldn't be as easy as hitting the blade. His confusion is shown a little through the sloppy parry of her first attack. If she wants to kill him, she has to do it before he gets used to her weapon.

Celer tries to attack, but she blocks him expertly, immediately going into her riposte. This has a surprising effect. He is only a second too late to act as the blade skins his stomach. He retreats a step and growls at the blood falling from him. Then he charges at her in full speed.

From his form, it looks like he is trying a flèche. But Jasmine doesn't try to block like Flare had done. She dives out of the path of the blade before Celer can make contact. She tries to stand up and attack him before he can regain his balance and try charging again, but he is up and ready by the time she is.

Another advantage I see is that her weapon is longer than his. She could fight from a farther distance than he and still be safe from his own blade. She does this many times as they battle at each other. He finally catches her as his blade parries then moves into a doublé. The shortsword digs deep into her left shoulder, though not getting his desired target.

She groans, but does not stop. She tries to come up with a decent plan, but before she can act, he advances on her. His overhead attack meets with the scythe, but the bladed head of the weapon falls free, leaving Jasmine with the broken end.

He moves to attack her again with the overhead, and this time, she knows what to do. She quickly sidesteps outside of the blade's path and uses her left arm to push his arm to the side, wincing a little as she does so. Before he could move to try and attack again, she sees a free spot just between his armpit and breast. She thrusts her broken end of the staff into the soft spot and Celer falls to the floor. She stabs him once more in his back before his canon fires.

We are all in awe. I have no idea how she could have beat him. Celer was the master, the District kid that could beat anyone. Yet, Jasmine killed him. If he hadn't of done the overhead attack again, he would have won. If she didn't know how to block it, he would have won. I can't believe it. It's so unreal.

"Keep your heads up," Baruch says. Many of us sigh and move a little before realizing the obvious. Celer is dead. The one we had wanted to kill the others is long gone. Vaughn won't kill the others, neither will Halsey. Jasmine might, but with her weapon cut, I don't know how.

"I want to put in my mutts," Wayne says a little too eagerly. Baruch glances from him to me and, strangely enough, Robin.

"I don't know, Wayne..."

"Come on! It'll drive the Capitol wild." The Head Gamemaker purses his lips then nods.

Wayne looks like a giddy young child as he begins typing away at his keyboard. I've seen his mutts and they aren't really anything to brag about. Sure, they are good ideas, but he couldn't get the proper genetics for it to go the way he had wanted. I had to help him out with most of them.

The tributes linger in the trees around the ash field waiting anxiously for their queue to move forward. The only two who aren't present are Nicholas and Vaughn, who sit at their camp, passing around a small water bottle. In Vaughn's hand is a loaded spear gun.

"His sponsors sent him water and the gun a few minutes before you got here," Lee clarifies for me. I nod a little and play with my hands.

I still feel the brittle paper in my hands, burning a whole into my palms. I must have read the letter at least a hundred times and every time I close my eyes, all I can see is the perfect curls of each letter. _How's Darius?_ He knows about Rhys. It makes no sense. We were so careful. But Robin's conversation before the Games runs through my head, as it did many times through the night. I can't focus. It's all wrong. This wasn't supposed to happen and, frankly, I don't even know if he's worth it anymore. Every thought that comes to mind just makes me more confused.

I squeeze my eyes shut and my entire body tenses. Where am I anyway? District 2? The Capitol? No, I'm not there. I'm somewhere else. I'm in the jungle of _Lord of the Flies_. I'm in the world before Panem like in my father's book. Panem just doesn't exist.

"Ariadne?" The voice is soft but it is enough to pull me back to the surface. I am a Gamemaker and the Games are almost done. I just need to make it through a few more hours and then I'll be done.

I take a deep breath and turn my attention back to the boys. They are still relatively calm and smile at each other as if it is just another day. As if at least one of them wasn't going to die.

"I'll be back with your medicine," Vaughn says taking another swig from the now empty-bottle and getting on his feet.

"What are you talking about? I'm going with you." The District 4 boy laughs at him.

"Are you insane? Look at that leg. You can't even take a step without wincing." Nicholas must know that he had no real argument about this. There is no way he would be of help in his condition, but he doesn't completely give up.

"You could help me up a tree and I can shoot them with the crossbow," he says motioning to the forgotten weapon. Vaughn narrows his eyes at it.

"Do you even know how to use that thing?"

"Well, no, but it won't be too hard to learn. You just pull the trigger right."

"It's not that simple. You have to load it and take proper aim."

"Aim isn't too important. I'll be in a tree and even if I miss, if anyone tries to get at me, I'll have the higher ground." Vaughn is deep in thought, considering what he was talking about. It was a really good idea and Nicholas would be free from any harm in the heights of a tree. The only problem would be trying to get him in one.

"Well fine, but we only have a few minutes to get you in a tree and teach you how to reload and shit." He begins working immediately, the lights from the fireworks only further enhancing his nerves. Eventually, they head to the confinements of the thick forests and with Vaughn's help, Nicholas manages to get inside of the tree.

"Alright! Time for the feast!" Baruch announces as the table slides up through the ground. Food spills over the sides of the table and on each plate is the desired item. Celer's sword still stands there for anyone willing to take it. Nicholas's medicine, water, food, and for Smith, Gamil's hatchet. He'll know the minute that he sees it that Gamil was the one who had died.

They linger in the forest, no one really wanting to be the first to run to it. There was no guarantee of living once you step onto the ash field and they all seem to know this.

"Looks like they need some persuasion. Why don't you send in the mutts, Wayne." The sadistic Capitol citizen jumps at the opportunity and begins typing furiously at his keyboard. Seconds later, the muttations appear.

I don't understand it at first. I hear the gasps and the "Oh shit." I see the shocked faces and the mute lips. It doesn't make sense, but then the mutts come closer and the tributes around them (Halsey and Nicholas) rush into the field. It's only when one of the mutts tackle down Halsey and I hear the shrill cry that it finally clicks.

These animals are complex. They have the teeth of a saber-tooth tiger, the body of a bear, and wings of an angel. Their eyes are blood red and terrifyingly furious. It isn't something that Wayne could create by himself. These aren't his mutts. They are Robin's.

My eyes fly to her as she looks at her creation in horror. Her contract was clear. They could not use her muttations. And yet, they did anyway. No, they didn't. Wayne and Baruch did. I told him to leave those files alone, that they were too deep for him to even find, but I should have known he would have taken the challenge and the design is too good to pass up.

Large tears flow freely from her eyes and I don't think she notices them. All she could see are the hybrids as the attack at Halsey and Vaughn, their teeth and claws biting into their flesh. She grips the rubber ball and I would give anything to hear the annoying rhythm.

She jumps to her feet and looks at me, her eyes wild. "How could you do it?" she asks. It takes me a minute to realize she's talking to me.

"Robin. I- I didn't do it."

"This was your plan all along wasn't it. You wanted my trust so that you can use my mutts. You wanted to build up my hopes just so you can pull me down."

"I would never do that to you Robin."

"You do it to the tributes all the time. How do I know I'm any different?"

"Robin..." Tears threaten to fall from my own eyes. I can't believe she thinks that I would do that to her. After everything... "Robin," I choke out. I try to continue, but I feel as though I had just swallowed a rock.

"I knew that you were cruel, Ariadne. I knew that we weren't exactly alike, but I thought that you at least cared for me enough to respect my wishes."

"Robin! I had nothing to do with it."

Before she can respond a cannon goes off. All eyes fly from us to the screen to see Halsey's dead body. Multiple blow darts are caught in the fur of the bear that was attacking her.

That does it for Robin. She shrieks and runs away. No one bothers to stop her. She's finally cracked. After all of these years, Robin Carspian went insane. And I'm not too far away from her.

The last few weeks, I faced my childhood truth, I spoke to my father, I discovered Snow's treachery, found out about Rhys's past, and has a target on my back from the man that will soon be the president. And now, the only friend I've had for years thinks that I threw her under the train to die. I could have handled the rest, but Robin was the one I could count on if I couldn't. She's gone now and that's all because of Wayne. Wayne...

I face the guy who ruined Robin. He still looks at the mutts with bright eyes, but faces me when he feels my gaze. His pleasure leaves his face quickly.

"I told you not to use them," I hiss.

"They were good and should have been used years ago. Robin should have known that."

"I told you not to f*cking use her design." His face scrunches up and he stands.

"Don't you curse at me, you filthy District kid!" he cries pointing a finger at me. "If Robin couldn't take the heat, she should have stayed out of the kitchen. It was bound to happen eventually and she was never mentally sane anyway. If you ask me, she should've stayed in the gutters where she belonged."

"Don't you talk about Robin that way!"

"Why not? It's true! The Districts are junk and everyone in it is garbage. Especially you and your stupid district of wannabes."

"You killed Robin," I mutter under my breath. He doesn't hear me.

"District 2 protecting the Capitol? That's the most ridiculous thing I have ever heard. Why would we ever need your weakness infesting our strength?"

"You killed Robin," I say a little louder. He looks me straight in the eye.

"Yeah, so what if I did. What are you gonna do about it?"

He killed her and I thought I should return the favor.

No one tried to stop me as I lunged at him. Some of the girls scream and I can hear Lady Grey's distant shrill voice trying to speak to us. They all become distant. We're trash are we Wayne? Weak too, huh? How weak is this? I punch him again and again, relishing in the feeling of his blood on my fists.

"Ariadne! You stop this right now!" It's Baruch. He did it too. He signed off on the mutts. He knew that he was going to use them and he didn't bother stopping him. He knew what it would have done to her.

I'm not too sure what I do, but I pick up the first thing I can get my hands on and when Baruch tries to lift me off of him, I swing it back. The thump of his body falling to the floor causes more screams. Everything is insane. No one knows what to do. But I do. I need to finish what I started.

Wayne looks so weak as I attack him. He tries to fight me, but he is just a pampered Capitol citizen. He doesn't know how it feels to starve or work. He doesn't know what it's like to be thrown out of your house so that you can survive on your surroundings. He wasn't bred to kill like I was. He is only a rabbit. I am a bear.

I don't stop, not that I could, even if I wanted to. I'm in too deep. No one tries to pull me off in fear of ending up like Baruch. A few hands pull at me, but their grip is too weak and I swat away at them like the little flies that they are. I feel Wayne's life slipping away. My job is almost done.

The canon pierces my ears and I stop. Wayne is dead. He has to be. His canon just went off. A strong pair of arms wrap around me and I don't struggle. My job is finished.

"What should we do?"

"Call someone?"

"Call who?"

"Damn! Ariadne could have killed him."

And the conversations keep flowing.

I am placed on a chair far away from the others and the person who dragged me away from Wayne stands in front of me. I stare at the auburn locks that are styled the same way that they were when we first met. Rhys looks at me with concerned eyes, though it could be something else. I can't really tell. We look at each other in the way that we always do, and while I normally feel close to him during this time, now I feel nothing. As if his gaze is as empty as night.

"Alright!" Eyes fly to the girl standing on top of Baruch's chair. Everyone seems surprised that the girl who hardly ever speaks is trying to take control. "Okay," Lee continues, "we have to keep ourselves together. Vaughn and Halsey were killed by the mutts, but there are still three others left. Keep yourselves together. Someone get Wayne and Baruch into the resting room and call for a nurse for Wayne. We'll take care of them when this is over. Lysander, Grig, come over here and take over Wayne and Ariadne's spot. Everyone else, take a seat and stay focused."

No one tries to go against her as they do as she says. I would have never thought that the quiet girl who always agreed with me would have this much leadership. She steps toward me, though her eyes are still on the Gamemakers.

"Keep an eye on her, Darius," she says softly. "Make sure she doesn't move." He nods and glances down at me. Lee, eventually, follows his gaze.

"Will you be okay?" she asks. I blink a few times, not really comprehending what she's saying.

"I'm fine. I should help. Will is still out there." I try to stand up, but Rhys pushes me back into the chair.

"I can take care of Will," Lee says.

"You don't know the codes." I change the control system with every mutt so that no one could try to control them, but I wouldn't be too surprised if Lee picked up on Will's I've been using him a lot lately.

"It's not that hard. I'm sure I can figure it out. You just relax and stay calm. Get yourself together."

"I'm fine, Lee." She shakes her head and tentatively puts a hand on my shoulder.

"No. You're not."

When she walks away, I think I hear her say, "If only Robin were here," but I can't be too sure.

Vaughn coincidentally died the same time that Wayne did. I'm glad that I didn't see him or Halsey die. From what Robin has told me about her infamous mutts, they kill mercilessly. I feel bad for Halsey and Vaughn though.

Lee jumps to my desk and begins to type on the keyboard. She pauses every so often and glances at the screen. Jasmine and Smith found refuge in a tree when Robin's mutts came and they haven't moved since. I wonder if they are still going to try to get at the feast.

Will whistles to the gathering mockingjays. He is very close to one of the tributes, but for the life of me, I can't tell which one. The pipe twirls around in his fingers as if it is only a toy and not a deadly weapon. He pauses in front of the tree that one of the tributes are in and knocks it down without any real effort. It falls to the floor in a miserable heap of debris.

Will walks into the mess until he pulls up a mop of short blond hair. A sharp cry is heard from the owner of the body and before he stabs him with his pipe, the tribute shoots him with a crossbow dart. Nicholas Jackson dies immediately after.

And then there was two.

**A moment of silence for Celer Ersatz, Halsey Raines, Vaughn Ingramin, and Nicholas Jackson.**

**And the last chapter will be between **Smith Bates **and **Jasmine Hollis**.**

*Finz*


	23. And the Winner Is

And the Winner Is...

I didn't realize there was blood all over me until Rhys runs to get a towel. Seeing it on my hands doesn't bother me the way that it ought to. It's almost as if I am seeing an old friend than anything. In District 2, we fought often and it was a rarity for us to not have blood on us. It's a little strange seeing it now, but welcomed nonetheless.

Rhys tentatively tries to wipe away the blood splatters on my face, but I take it from him and do it myself. I'm still confused about him, and not to mention that there are other people around that would only cause us more trouble. I wipe away the blood with a quick swipe, though I am sure that there is still some there. I stare at my hands for a long time and consider wiping them too. Millions of different thoughts run through my mind and I can't pin down any of them. Eventually, I take the wet cloth and scrub away at the blood.

Smith and Jasmine slid out of their respective trees and stand in the field. Both are aware that they are the last two tributes and know that they have to deal with this themselves. Smith clenches one of the glass shards in his hand, causing blood to drip down the tips. Jasmine holds the head of her scythe in one hand and then the broken end in the other. They simply stare at each other.

The only reason I have as to why she hasn't killed him yet is because of his age. I remember Robin telling me that she had a little brother that young. I'm sure in her eyes, it's like killing her sibling. Smith purses his lips and shifts his weight. He doesn't want to throw the first move either.

I can't stop my mind from thinking of different ways to get them at it. It wouldn't take too much, a roar of a bear or the smell of smoke. Maybe even a little earthquake. I chuckle under my breath and shake my head. Even when I am completely unstable, I can't stop my hard-wiring.

Lee is no fool. She picks up on the wavering feelings between the two as quickly as I did and begins barking out orders to both sides. Baruch was always lenient when it came to the camera angles, but Lee understands the importance with filming.

There is a harsh buzz in my ear and I can't really hear what anyone is saying. It almost feels as though I am lifted from the Gamemaking room and into the arena with Smith and Jasmine.

And then, I am there with them in the ash field. I see my arena all around me, right down to the swaying trees and the smell of dead life. We glance at each other, no one truly sure what the Gamemakers are planning on doing.

The flute strikes me cold. Smith and I already know what is coming toward us, and I take a glance at Jasmine. She doesn't really understand what is going on, which makes sense since she never met this faun mutt before. Smith is rigid and his blood seems to drip down faster.

"Well, well," Will says as he walks into the empty field, "what do we have here?" He places the flute on his hip and whistles the lullaby.

"Y-you killed Cressida," Smith stutters out. Will glances at the boy then shrugs a little.

"Don't know who this Cressida person is, but I might have."

"I remember that song. It was in the meadow." From the corner of my eye I notice that Jasmine clenches her bladed weapon a little harder. I want to tell her that a strong grip will weaken the blow before it is dealt, but I decide against it.

"I don't know names kid." Smith fully faces Will now, his bloodied shard ready.

"You killed her! I remember that song. The mockingjays wouldn't stop singing it." He slumps onto the floor and runs a hand through his hair. "They wouldn't stop," he whispers. I hear something past the buzzing but I can't tell what it is.

"She was gonna die anyway, so don't fret over it," Will says, preparing his flute.

Smith responds too quickly for me to notice. His head pops up and the blade he has flies from his hand. It hits home, right on Will's chest. In a normal person, he would have been done, but Will is a mutt, my mutt at that. He glances at the shard in his chest and chuckles at it. He will die from it, but not as easily as a human would.

Smith doesn't stop throwing the shards, his desire for revenge getting the best of him. Not all of the shards hit him, but a few do. When the boy is down to his last few, Will strikes.

I yell out for Smith to watch out, but he doesn't listen. Will is at him in seconds, and lifts him into the air by his neck. Smith's eyes are wide, but with the shard in hand, he still tries to attack the mutt.

Jasmine hops up and rushes to the two. I follow behind, though I am not as fast as I used to be. She abandoned the broken end of the scythe and holds the head as if it was a sickle. I can't see too well what Will is doing to Smith, but from the boy's cries, I'm sure it is bad.

Jasmine reacts like a lion protecting her cub. At that moment Smith isn't the competition, but a young child being abused by this mutt. If there is one thing she is good at, it is saving abused children. She is a little too short to get at his head, but she does dig deep into his back. Will growls and throws Smith to the side. The boy lands on the floor with a horrifying crunch.

Jasmine attacks him as he tries to get at her. She slashes at him several times and just as I begin to run to her aid, my mutt falls to the floor in a heap of scratches. He isn't dead, but not live either. The Gamemakers must be giving us a chance to deal with it.

She runs to Smith as he whimpers weakly. His arm is broken and he has bruises along his neck, not to mention the different cuts and scratches along his arms. They almost look like bite marks. I am sure I didn't give Will fangs.

She checks his bare skin for other injuries and when she finds none, she doesn't seem to know what to do. Well, we both know what she has to do, but she doesn't want to do it. She tentatively takes out the jasmine flower that Brican gave her from her pocket and places it on Smith's chest.

"I'm sorry," she mutters under her breath. She takes the knife from his hilt and stabs him in his heart. The canon sounds and Caesar's voice booms through the arena.

Before the hovercraft comes to take her and Smith away, she moves the flower so that it covers the stab wound.

* * *

I'm not completely sure how I ended up back in the Gamemaker's room. The screen is black and I am still in the chair next to Rhys. Did I even go into the arena? I must have. That was too real for it to be a figment of my imagination.

A few people walk in and out of the resting room with relief written all over their faces, though I don't really know why. They must be happy that Baruch is alright.

We glance around at each other. Normally, like during the District 5 reapings, Robin tells us a story of her old life. It was a perfect antidote to get us back to the real world and out of our annual killing high. Now, she's not here, but I refuse to let her tradition die. Not like this.

"When I was little," I begin softly, "my mother would take my brother and I to the clearing just outside the town. She would tell us stories and sing us old folk songs. The mockingjays would always pick up the tune and we would sing along with them."

I stand up from my chair and walk to Robin's. I feel Rhys's hand on my should for a second, but eventually it dissolves into the air. The rubber ball is lying limply on her desk and I allow it to roll on my palm. I like the feel of the rubber against my skin. I settle down in her seat and begin to bounce it against the floor.

"One night, my mother woke us up really late and brought us to the clearing. It was a beautiful night with not a single cloud in sight. The air was thick and warm to the touch. My mother brought a blanket and we lied down so she could tell us a story. To this day I remember it word for word:

'You see those stars up there? (We nodded.) Well before the Dark Days those weren't there. Only the moon would grace us and it wasn't enough for us to light our way at night. Do you know why the stars weren't there? (We shook our heads.) The Capitol was taking them away so they can have them all for themselves. So the Districts tried to bring them back. This is why they called the rebellion the Dark Days. The Districts were growing stronger and so the Capitol decided to show them the true power of our stars. They made them fall from the heavens and District 13 couldn't handle the power and they were left to parish.

'But then, a miracle happened and all of the souls of every man, woman, and child that died in the war flew into the sky, gracing us with their light. Every star is a soul, you see, and because of the Dark Days, every time someone dies, their soul flies into the sky. The better you are, the brighter you shine.'

"We spent the rest of the night making up stories about the different souls and their families. You know, I still do sometimes, make up stories, I mean. It takes me away from the Capitol and the Games and it makes me happy, because some day, we'll be up there with the others, shining as bright as you can." Robin's ball comes to rest in my palm again and I clench it in my hand.

"To the 37th Hunger Games," Lee says sadly.

"To the Games," the others chime in.

"To the Dark Days," I say, but no one hears me.

**A.N. And that is it. A chapter or two to finish off Ariadne's side and this story is finished. I am going to write another SYOT story in the point of view of an Avox (Rhys will be making appearances) and I hope you guys look out for it when this is done. You guys gave me great tributes and I would love to work with you again. **

**Congratulations to **Jasmine Hollis _(and KatnissIsTheLove) _**for winning the Thirty-Seventh Hunger Games.**

**And a moment of silence for Smith Bates.**

**May all of the tributes of the 37th Hunger Games shine as bright as they can. **

*Finz*


	24. After

After

"She's gonna hate me," I say burying my head in my hands. Theseus's large hand rubs my back, and although it makes me a little happier, I can't help feeling worse about the situation. I haven't step foot in my apartment with Robin, out of the fear of seeing her again. Theseus is leaving in a few days and I know I have to get this over with eventually.

"She can never hate you. You've been together for too long," my brother assures.

"She thinks I betrayed her, and frankly I did."

"Aw come on. You beat up Wayne for her. I went to see him yesterday and his face looks like a chipmunk." I smile a little bit. Lee had Theseus get me after the Games because she didn't trust me to walk home by myself. Frankly neither did I. After Lee told me of the events from her perspective, I feel like a monster. Though, Wayne did deserve what he got. So did Baruch.

My brother steps in front of me and takes my hands. "Talk to her or not, you have to face her eventually. Word is that she's going home." My eyes widen a little as I look at him. It isn't surprising, but I didn't really expect it either.

"How did you hear about this?"

"She told me. I saw her yesterday." I sigh and pull my legs up to my chest. Theseus doesn't leave me like this for long. He grabs my arm and practically drags me to my apartment.

When we reach my front door, I linger around before reaching for my keys. Theseus sits against the wall and pretends to go to sleep. Odds are, he won't be there when I get back. Taking a deep breath, I open the door.

Robin is packing her stuff, her back to me. She knows I'm here though; I just know it. I sit down at the edge of my bed and play with Brican's mockingjay. I want to throw it out, but I can't find the heart to.

"I'm sorry for reacting the way I did," Robin mutters softly. I look up at her, noticing that she sat down on our large sofa chair.

"I should have stopped him," I say a little hoarsely.

"You couldn't have done anything. You weren't in charge of the mutts." We look at each other, but don't meet the other's eyes.

"I heard Hale died yesterday. I went to give my regards."

"Yeah, I was there when he died," I tell her. There is a long awkward pause afterward. There was so much I wanted to say, but now, I can't think of anything.

"I became a Gamemaker because of my mom," Robin says abruptly. I finally get the guts to look at her in the eyes. All of the world's sadness rests on her shoulders then and I want desperately to help her out.

"What do you mean?" I had always thought her mother had died. It was one of the reasons I gave as to why she hadn't gone home yet, since her father was dead as well.

"After my dad died, I felt as though it was my job to keep my mom happy. My mother was always the biggest Capitol supporter. She believed everything that they did was for the best, even the Hunger Games. For a long time, that's all she would talk to me about. She told me that it was my job to show my gratitude for the Capitol's mercy. I knew she was wrong, but I could never really go against her. She was my mother after all." I understand that much. It's the same thing with me and my father.

"The others thought she was insane, and frankly, so did I. But I never said anything to her and I paid the price. They thought I was the devil's child. I pretended to be her perfect little girl, and never told her what happened. In the end, I had to let out my festering anger before it spilled out on her. That's when I made the muttations.

"I was always a gifted student, especially with the gene splicing. Creating the image was just as simple as finding the proper genes. As I created, all I could think of was that it was going to come to life and attack my mom. It was going to torture and kill her until she realizes how evil the Capitol really was. When I finished, I had stowed it away in the District safe and when Baruch found them... I don't know. My mother was so happy, and it was a way for me to get away from her. So, I left." She paused for a moment, tears filling her eyes.

"It was so hard to stay here. The only thing that kept me here was the fact that my mother would be happier if I was here. That she could finally be proud of me. So when my mutt attacked and killed Halsey, all I could see was my mother being in her place. That's how the mutt originally came to be after all, and I couldn't stand it."

"Oh, Robin!" I exclaim rushing to her side. We embrace as she weeps against my shoulder. Strange how much power a parent can hold over their children. It scares me a little. I never want children. Not in this twisted world.

"I found out that my mother is sick," Robin says in between sobs. "I need to go home. I need to see her before she dies, but I can't leave you here. Not by yourself. Marit told me what you did for me in the Gamemakers' room. She told me how you nearly killed Wayne. And-and..." She falls into another fit of hysterics and I feel like I'm at a loss.

"Go home, Robin. You, of all people, deserve it," I whisper to her. She leans back a little so that she can look at me. She sniffs wildly and wipes her eyes to try to control herself.

"You remember the deal, don't you? Once we're home, we stay there."

"Of course I do, and you don't belong here. You belong at home where there isn't as much bloodshed." She laughs a little at my weak attempt at a joke.

"I wouldn't have made it as long if it weren't for you."

"And I would have been a bloodthirsty murderer if it wasn't for you." We smile sadly, my own eyes finally beginning to tear up.

"I'll call you when I can. Maybe we can even come back to the Capitol during the Games. Hang out, you know." She nods a little, though I don't know if she means it. After her ordeals here, I wouldn't blame her if she never wanted to come back.

"We'll keep in touch," she promises.

And I finally begin to cry because in my heart, I know that we won't and that I lost my best friend for the rest of my life.

* * *

I spent hours under the lamp light, trying to find the right way to end it. I know he deserves more than this, but every time I consider going to find him, I change my mind at the last minute and begin a new letter. It's Lee's fault. If she just kept her mouth shut, it would have been fine. Hell if it wasn't for Snow, everything would have been fine, too, but it's not.

"_Did you get my letter Ariadne?" Snow asked me with his overly sized lips pressed into the air. I face him in the courtyard of the Training Center with my arms crossed over my body. _

"_Unfortunately."_

"_So what do you say? Let bygones be bygones?"_

"_What does that even mean?"_

"_It means, that we leave the past behind us and start a new." I narrowed my eyes at him. He hadn't tormented me the last few weeks so he could just let it all go._

"_What is it you want from me?" He responds to the question with a sadistic smirk._

"_You are a very gifted individual, no one can deny that. I simply want to use those gifts to both of our advantage." I hated his wordplay. _Just come out and say it already,_ I thought to myself._

"_I'm not sure I fully comprehend what you're saying."_

"_As president, I want you to be the Head Gamemaker." Of all the things I had expected, that wasn't one of them. Didn't he want me out of the Capitol and out of his hair, presumably in a wooden box in District 2?_

"_Are you insane?" I asked, throwing my arms out of its knot. "Did you not hear what I did to Wayne?" That stupid little smirk was still on his face._

"_Oh I saw it Ariadne. Cute, how you went to protect your little friend. But since she's leaving, I'm sure that won't happen again." I raised an eyebrow at him, my arms becoming crossed once again. _

"_And if I don't want to be the Head?"_

"_Well, I'm sure many people will be shocked to hear about Darius Rhys Carilor." And that was the cue I was waiting for. My own lips twitched into a smile as I responded._

"_Funny, because normally, that would have worked, if only, I didn't go see President Hale before he died." I could see the underlying worry in his gaze. I'm sure he thought he hid it well, but he didn't._

"_What do you mean?" he asked innocently._

"_We talked for a little bit, and he told me his symptoms. His throat was inflamed so that he can hardly breathe, his heart was beating slowly, and it seemed as though his entire body is on fire. Now this sounded a lot like the venom we used for our scorpions in the Games, the ones that stay under severe lock and key. Then I realize that Wayne is no computer genius. There is no way that he could have dug deep enough to get to Robin's files." I paused for a moment, getting pleasure in the small beads of sweat building at Snow's temple. "It was an exchange wasn't it. The venom for Robin's mutts."_

"_You can't prove that."_

"_You sure?" I asked, my eyebrow raised again. "I think Wayne would be willing to admit to anything as long as I don't beat him up again."_

"_I could always kill you before you have the chance," he growled. And I saw that image again. The one of the poor pathetic official who was crying over a broken nose. I smiled at the thought._

"_You could," I continued, "but that wouldn't look too good for your rep now would it. The first thing you do when becoming president is kill a Gamemaker for doing practically nothing. You'd have a major uprising on your hands for that one." He didn't give up._

"_I could silence you." I couldn't stop myself from laughing at this._

"_You threatening to Avox me? That's cute, Snow. As if, Avoxes can't write." I'm pushing him a little too far. He is long past his negotiation mode and at any moment, I think he'll command a Peacekeeper to arrest me. I have to make the proposition now or never. "Listen, how about we cut each other a deal. You do not harm me, my family, Rhys, or Robin, and I won't tell anyone what you did." _

"_Really?" he said unsurely._

"_Really," I confirmed._

"_Just that easy."_

"_Yup."_

"_And what if you mysteriously get an illness like the President?" And he begins with the poisons again. _

"_Unless you can transport the poison from an undisclosed area in District 2, then I have nothing to worry about." The statement came out of my mouth before I realized that it left. It was only an idea before, but now it was the truth._

"_District 2?" he questions._

"_I'm going home." The sound of the words made me smile._

"_You running away from me?"_

"_No, It's time for me to go home." He still wanted to try and break me; to get the reins that my father once possessed._

"_You know there is no place in Panem that you can hide from me."_

"_Very true, but you seem to forget that my father taught me how to survive in the Hunger Games. I'm sure the fence outside of District 2 isn't nearly as menacing."_

"_That would just give me a real reason to kill you."_

"_True," I nodded, "but I'm not afraid of death, or torture for that matter. I've seen enough of the world to say that I am ready to die, if that is the case." And that was enough for him to admit his loss. His shoulders slumped a little, though I was sure he was still thinking of ways to try and get rid of me. "So, do we have a deal?"_

And that leaves me in my room, packing away everything that I have and a letter that can't be written. I should just talk to Rhys like a normal person. He deserves that much, or does he? I groan and bang my head against the table.

"Just tell him how you feel and that you're sorry," Robin says from her bed. I glance back at her, but she already continued her fake slumber.

I take a very deep breath. Now or never. He'll understand. He always does.

_Rhys,  
I pray that you will forgive me one day for not saying good-bye properly. Lee told me about how you became an Avox and she says that you don't care for me the way that I thought you did. I've told you numerous stories of how people used me for their own gain and I never thought you would do the very thing that I hated the most. I hold no hatred for you, though, because part of me still thinks that Lee is lying, that you are still that boy I fell for. I am so confused over everything and you must understand why I simply can't see you right now._

_I am going home, Rhys. I no longer have a place here. Snow wants to use me and I know where that will lead me. If you taught me anything, it's that good people are capable of horrible things. I need to figure out who I am before I do something else that I will regret._

_I'm leaving the book my father gave me behind for you. I hope that despite what I'm doing to you, you will get around to reading it. It's about the world before ours, which isn't that much different from our own. There are things that they had that we didn't and vice versa. This place is so strange, and yet I know that it must be better than Panem. It had to of been..._

_Goodbye my friend. Maybe we will see each other again, when I figure everything out. We can live away from Panem and create our own society, like the ones in the book. But that's a long time from now. _

_Take care and be safe._

_-Ariadne_

* * *

I have only fifteen minutes to finish everything before the train leaves. Jasmine Hollis is still in her interview, though I'm sure Caesar is almost finished with her. I need to get to her room before she shows up.

The hallways are bare, save for a few Avoxes who are cleaning up for next year (and they pay no attention to me). There is one boy (no older than sixteen) who pauses to look at me. When I meet his gaze, his pale green eyes jump away and he continues to clean the floor.

I walk up to him. He looks up at me with wide eyes as he shuffles to his feet. "Do you know who Rhys is?" I ask him gently. He swallows a little then nods.

"Can you give this to him?" I hand the boy the book with the letter in the cover. He takes it and nods again.

"Thank you, um..." I take out a napkin and a pen so he could write his name. He reacts the same way that Rhys did all those years ago. With wide eyes he gently takes the pen and napkin. He holds it in his hand for a long time then writes his name.

"Vulcan. Well thank you Vulcan." He nods and smiles before rushing away to bring Rhys my farewell. I pause and glance at the only other thing that I have in my hands. The very thing that I had wanted to leave in Jasmine's room.

"Wait!" His scruff of fiery red hair stops and looks at me. I stare at the totem I had made for her. It was part of the original set that I made during the Games, though I polished this one and painted it so that it looks almost exactly like the flower that Brican had given her. "Can you give this to Jasmine Hollis before you see Rhys."

He takes the totem from my hand and admires the carving. I can see the question in his eyes as he looks at me, but I don't bother asking what it is. He can't talk after all. With a brisk nod, he rushes to the elevator before I command something else from him.

I pause to glance around the empty hallway once more before leaving the Training Building behind.

* * *

I see Lee waiting outside of the train station. Millions of reporters gather around, waiting for Jasmine to enter. Theseus and I agreed to leave once the reporters have dispersed. Naturally the mentors leave whenever their tributes die, but Theseus likes staying a little longer. There's nothing against it after all.

"I heard you were leaving, and I wanted to be here to bid you farewell." I smile and take a look at her. She changed since I first met her. She went from the observant little quiet girl to the one who took charge when no one else wanted to.

"President Snow offered me the Head Gamemaker job," she tells me softly.

"Did he?" He couldn't have me so he went to the next best thing.

"Yeah. I told him I'd think about it."

"Why?"

"You know I had always trusted your judgment, even as you beat up Wayne. We all know that he deserved it. So if you think that I shouldn't take this job, then I have no problem turning it down." I want to say no, that Snow is a swine who will use you, but I remember vaguely what happened in the Gamemakers' room. Of all the people to take the job, Avonlea Blythe is the only one I think would do it justice.

"You should take it," I tell her. Her hand grips my arm and I manage a smile.

"Are you sure?" I nod.

"Definitely." I embrace her then and try to keep myself together. When Robin left yesterday, I didn't bother to hide my tears, but I don't want to cry now.

"Remember when you asked to borrow Cinna's name." She nods and pulls away a little to look at me. "You can only use it-"

"So there are terms now?" she jokes. We laugh a little before starting again.

"You can only use it if you swear to teach him the truth; if you make sure he knows what the Games really are." She smiles and nods.

"I'll make sure he doesn't hide behind the Capitol's ridiculous outfits."

Cries come from the reporters as Jasmine is led through the crowd of reporters. Her face is as mellow as ever, refusing to give any emotion to these people. My eyes trail down to her small hands, clenched around the flower I made. It makes me smile a little.

Lee waits with me until Theseus comes and our train pulls up. We hug once more and I feel as though I'll never see her again either. Loosing two great friends in only a few days kills me.

"I'll come back and see you," I promise.

"There's no hurry."

We board the train and I sit next to the window. I wave goodbye to Lee, who stays there until our train rushes away from the station. The very last thing I see before I take a nap are the blinding lights of the President's Mansion.

* * *

It could have been days or months or maybe even a couple of hours. I wasn't aware of the time when Theseus told me that we were close to District 2. I gathered the one hundred-sixty-seven carvings from every Games that I was a Gamemaker for and placed them in a bag. I want to remember the children who I helped kill. Brian's mockingjay is clenched in my fist as I ready myself for the stop.

I know very few people will be at the train station, and I think of my mother's familiar face instantly. My hand flies to the clover pendant that hasn't left my neck since Theseus gave it to me. I can't wait to see her. I'm sure Arthur will be there as well, but I wonder if he will be happy I'm home. I hope he will be. And then there's Cinna. My nephew and Theseus's reason for living. This will be the first time I see him since he was a toddler.

When we stop, Theseus leaves the train and I follow behind him. He walks straight to the small group of people and begins to hug each of them. Exactly three people stand with my brother, each of which bring a smile to my face.

This is my family. Every hardship I ever went through in the Capitol seems so small as I stare into the shining faces of my future.

I am finally home.

**A.N. Oh! I am going to miss Ariadne and you guys as well (though if you stop by my new SYOT fic then the missing will be short-lived). Writing this was so much fun and I am happy to say that this is the very first multi-chapter story I have finished writing in a really long time. And this is all because of all of your great support throughout the entire fic and I love you guys for that. **

**And finally the disclaimer: **I do not own _The Hunger Games_ series nor do I own any of the main tributes of the fic. I do however own all of the characters not named in the books and most of what is the plot.

**Keep an eye out for me! Au revoir!**

*Finz*


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